SHIP'S 
COMPANY 


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SHIPS   COMPANY 


Br    THE    SAME    AUTHOR 


MANY  CARGOES 

THE  SKIPPERS  WOOING 

SEA  URCHINS 

A  MASTER  OF  CRAFT 

LIGHT  FREIGHTS 

AT  SUNWICH  PORT 

THE  LADY  OF  THE  BARGE 

ODD  CRAFT 

DIALSTONE  LANE 

SHORT  CRUISES 

CAPTAINS  ALL 

SALTHAVEN 

SAILORS'  KNOTS 


,"t>  iv^ 


— if~'>  !•"••"  --"ill  |(r  I _ 

'f\  fifi'^ 


ASKBU   A    POLICEMAN   THE   DISTANCE   TO   CLAPHAM    (/.  209) 

Frontispiece 


SHIP'S   COMPANY 


BY 


W.  W.  JACOBS 


ILLUSTRATED   BT   WILL   OfVEN 


HODDER    AND    STOUGHTON 

LONDON   NEW  YORK   TORONTO 


Richard  Clay  &  Sons,  Limited, 

BRUNSWICK    STREET,    STAMFORD   STREET,    i.fc. 
AND    BUNGAY,    SUFFOLK. 


4 


TO 

MY   DAUGHTER  OLWEN 


ENGT  l«;q 


CONTENTS 


FINE    FEATHERS       ........  I 

II 

FRIENDS    IN    NEED -25 

III 

GOOD    INTENTIONS  .......         49 

IV 

FAIRY    GOLD 70 

V 

WATCH-DOGS  ....  ...  94 

VI 

THE    BEQUEST II5 

VII 

THE    GUARDIAN    ANGEL 1 38 

ix 


CONTENTS 


VIII 

DUAL   CONTROL      ... 

IX 

SKILLED    ASSISTANCE 


fAGE 
162 


.  184 


X 

FOR    BETTER    OR    WORSE  ...•••       204 

XI 

THE    OLD    MAN    OF    THE    SEA 22? 

XII 

"manners  makyth  man" 252 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"asked  a  policeman  the  distance  to  clapham" 

Frontispiece 

"  '  CAN    I  'AVE  IT  TOOK  OFF  WHILE  I  EAT  MY  BLOATER  ?  '"  7 

"'been    PADDLIn'?'    he    inquired"        ....  22 


MR.  GIBBS,  WITH    HIS    BACK  AGAINST  THE  POST,   FOUGHT 

FOR    HIS    WHISKERS     FOR     NEARLY    HALF-AN-HOUR  "         33 


•'  '  WHERE   IS    HE  ?  '    SHE  GASPED  " 43 

"'WHAT   ON     earth's    THE     MATTER?'     SHE    INQUIRED, 

fumbling  in  her  pocket  for  the  key  as  her 
husband  executed  a  clumsy  but  noisy  break- 
down on  the  front  step "  .         .         .         .       81 

"  mr.  chase,  with  his  friend  in  his  powerful 
grasp,  was  doing  his  best,  as  he  expressed  it, 
to  shake  the  life  out  of  him"        .        .        •       qi 

"  the   quietest   man   o'   the   whole    lot   was    bob 

pretty" 105 


"some    of   'em    went    AND    TOLD     MR.    BUNNETT    SOME 


11 


MORE   THINGS    ABOUT    BOB    NEXT    DAY       .  .  .       I09 

JUST  WHAT  I  TOLD  HER,'  SAID  MR.  DIGSON.    '  "  WHAT'lL 
please      YOU      WILL      BE     SURE     TO      PLEASE      HIM," 

I    SAYS  '  " 1 30 

xi 


xii  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


" '  she'll  be  riding  in  her  carriage-and-pair  in  six 
months,  anyhow  :  the  richest  woman  in  little 
moltcn'" 133 

"  THE    LODGER   WAS    STANDING    AT   THE  FOOT  o'  GINGER's 

BED,    GOING   THROUGH    'iS    POCKETS  "...       144 


<(  ( 


WE  THOUGHT  YOU  MIGHT    WANT  IT,  SAM,      SES  PETER  150 


"  a  faint,  a  very  faint,  squeeze  in  return  decided 

him" 171 

"  he    felt   the    large    and    clumsy    hand    of  mr. 

butler  take  him  by  the  collar"       .         .         .-  183 

"  '  YOU    TELL   'eR   THAT   THERE'S   TWO    GENTLEMEN    HERE 

WHAT  HAVE  BROUGHT  'ER   NEWS    OF   'er    HUSBAND  '  "      211 

'•'don't   you    KNOW    ME,    MARY?'"  .  .  .  .       217 

"'if    I    TAKE     YOU     BACK    AGAIN,'    REPEATED     HIS    WIFE, 

'ARE    YOU    GOING   TO    BEHAVE   YOURSELF?'".  .       225 

"'it'll   do   to   go    on    with,'  HE   SAID  "  .  .  .       231 

"  '  'OW  MUCH  DID  YOU    SAY   YOU'd    GOT    IN  THE   BANK  ?  '  "       233 

"  '  THE   OTHER    HALF     AND     MY     BEST    GOLD    WATCH    AND 


CHAIN     I      HAVE     LEFT     TO     MY     DEAR     YOUNG    PAL, 


CHARLIE    HILLS  '" 


250 


"ARTER   trying    HIS    'aRDEST,     he     COULD     ONLY     ROCK 

ME   A    bit" 261 

"'gal  overboard!'    1  SES,  shouting"         .         .         .     267 


i 


FINE    FEATHERS 

Mr.  Jobson  awoke  with  a  Sundayish  feeling, 
probably  due  to  the  fact  that  it  was  Bank  Holiday. 
He  had  been  aware,  in  a  dim  fashion,  of  the 
rising  of  Mrs.  Jobson  some  time  before,  and  in  a 
semi-conscious  condition  had  taken  over  a  large 
slice  of  unoccupied  territory.  He  stretched  him- 
self and  yawned,  and  then,  by  an  eifort  of  will, 
threw  off  the  clothes  and  springing  out  of  bed 
reached  for  his  trousers. 

He  was  an  orderly  man,  and  had  hung  them 
every  night  for  over  twenty  years  on  the  brass 
knob  on  his  side  of  the  bed.  He  had  hung  them 
there  the  night  before,  and  now  they  had  ab- 
sconded with  a  pair  of  red  braces  just  entering 
their  teens.  Instead,  on  a  chair  at  the  foot  of  the 
bed  was  a  collection  of  garments  that  made  him 
shudder.  With  trembling  fingers  he  turned  over 
a  black  tail-coat,  a  white  waistcoat,  and  a  pair  of 

R  T 


2  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

light  check  trousers.  A  white  shirt,  a  collar,  and 
tie  kept  them  company,  and,  greatest  outrage  of 
all,  a  tall  silk  hat  stood  on  its  own  band-box  beside 
the  chair.  Mr.  Jobson,  fingering  his  bristly  chin, 
stood  regarding  the  collection  with  a  wan  smile. 

"  So  that's  their  little  game,  is  it?  "  he  muttered. 
"  Want  to  make  a  toff  of  me.  Where's  my  clothes 
got  to,  I  wonder?" 

A  hasty  search  satisfied  him  that  they  were  not 
in  the  room,  and,  pausing  only  to  drape  himself 
in  the  counterpane,  he  made  his  way  into  the  next. 
He  passed  on  to  the  others,  and  then,  with  a 
growing  sense  of  alarm,  stole  softly  downstairs 
and  making  his  way  to  the  shop  continued  the 
search.  With  the  shutters  up  the  place  was  almost 
in  darkness,  and  in  spite  of  his  utmost  care  apples 
and  potatoes  rolled  on  to  the  floor  and  travelled 
across  it  in  a  succession  of  bumps.  Then  a  sudden 
turn  brought  the  scales  clattering  down. 

"  Good  gracious,  Alf  !  "  said  a  voice.  "  What- 
ever are  you  a-doing  of?  " 

Mr.  Jobson  turned  and  eyed  his  wife,  who  was 
standing  at  the  door. 

*'  I'm  looking  for  my  clothes,  mother,"  he 
replied,  briefly. 


FINE   FEATHERS  3 

"  Clothes !  "  said  Mrs.  Jobson,  with  an  obvious 
attempt  at  unconcerned  speech.  "  Clothes  !  Why, 
they're  on  the  chair." 

"  I  mean  clothes  fit  for  a  Christian  to  wear — fit 
for  a  greengrocer  to  wear,"  said  Mr.  Jobson, 
raising  his  voice. 

"  It  was  a  little  surprise  for  you,  dear,"  said  his 
wife.  "  Me  and  Bert  and  Gladys  and  Dorothy 
'ave  all  been  saving  up  for  it  for  ever  so  long." 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you  all,"  said  Mr.  Jobson, 
feebly — *'  very,  but " 

"  They've  all  been  doing  without  things  them- 
selves to  do  it,"  interjected  his  wife.  "As  for 
Gladys,  I'm  sure  nobody  knows  what  she's  given 
up" 

"  Well,  if  nobody  knows,  it  don't  matter,"  said 
Mr.  Jobson.  "As  I  was  saying,  it's  very  kind  of 
you  all,  but  I  can't  wear  'em.  Where's  my 
others  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jobson  hesitated. 

"  Where's  my  others  ?  "  repeated  her  husband. 

"  They're  being  took  care  of,"  replied  his  wife, 
with  spirit.  "  Aunt  Emma's  minding  'em  for  you 
— and  you  know  what  she  is.  H'sh!  Alf  !  Alf! 
I'm  surprised  at  you  !  " 

B  2 


4  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Jobson  coughed.  "  It's  the  collar,  mother," 
he  said  at  last.  "  I  ain't  wore  a  collar  for  over 
twenty  years;  not  since  we  was  walking  out 
together.    And  then  I  didn't  like  it." 

"  More  shame  for  you,"  said  his  wife.  "  I'm 
sure  there's  no  other  respectable  tradesman  goes 
about  with  a  handkerchief  knotted  round  his 
neck." 

"  P'r'aps  their  skins  ain't  as  tender  as  what  mine 
is,"  urged  Mr.  Jobson;  "and  besides,  fancy  me  in 
a  top-'at !  Why,  I  shall  be  the  laughing-stock 
of  the  place." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  his  wife.  "  It's  only  the 
lower  classes  what  would  laugh,  and  nobody 
minds  what  they  think." 

Mr.  Jobson  sighed.  "Well,  I  shall  'ave  to  go 
back  to  bed  again,  then,"  he  said,  ruefully.  "  So 
long,  mother.  Hope  you  have  a  pleasant  time  at 
the  Palace." 

He  took  a  reef  in  the  counterpane  and  with  a 
fair  amount  of  dignity,  considering  his  appearance, 
stalked  upstairs  again  and  stood  gloomily  con- 
sidering affairs  in  his  bedroom.  Ever  since 
Gladys  and  Dorothy  had  been  big  enough  to  be 


FINE  FEATHERS  5 

objects  of  interest  to  the  young  men  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood the  clothes  nuisance  had  been  rampant. 
He  peeped  through  the  window-blind  at  the  bright 
sunshine  outside,  and  then  looked  back  at  the 
tumbled  bed.  A  murmur  of  voices  downstairs 
apprised  him  that  the  conspirators  were  awaiting 
the  result. 

He  dressed  at  last  and  stood  like  a  lamb — a 
red-faced,  bull-necked  lamb — while  Mrs.  Jobson 
fastened  his  collar  for  him. 

"  Bert  wanted  to  get  a  taller  one,"  she  remarked, 
"  but  I  said  this  would  do  to  begin  with." 

"  Wanted  it  to  come  over  my  mouth,  I  s'pose," 
said  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Jobson.  "Well,  'ave  it 
your  own  way.  Don't  mind  about  me.  What  with 
the  trousers  and  the  collar,  I  couldn't  pick  up  a 
sovereign  if  I  saw  one  in  front  of  me." 

'*  If  you  sec  one  I'll  pick  it  up  for  you,"  said  his 
wife,  taking  up  the  hat  and  moving  towards  the 
door.    "  Come  along  !  " 

Mr.  Jobson,  with  his  arms  standing  out  stiffly 
from  his  sides  and  his  head  painfully  erect, 
followed  her  downstairs,  and  a  sudden  hush  as  he 
entered  the  kitchen  testified  to  the  effect  produced 


6  SHIP'S   COIVIPANY 

by  his  appearance.  It  was  followed  by  a  hum 
of  admiration  that  sent  the  blood  flying  to  his 
head. 

"Why  he  couldn't  have  done  it  before  I  don't 
know,"  said  the  dutiful  Gladys.  "  Why,  there 
ain't  a  man  in  the  street  looks  a  quarter  as  smart." 

"  Fits  him  like  a  glove  !  "  said  Dorothy,  walking 
round  him. 

"Just  the  right  length,"  said  Bert,  scrutinizing 
the  coat. 

"And  he  stands  as  straight  as  a  soldier,"  said 
Gladys,  clasping  her  hands  gleefully. 

"Collar,"  said  Mr.  Jobson,  briefly.  "Can  I 
'ave  it  took  off  while  I  eat  my  bloater,  mother?  " 

"  Don't  be  silly,  Alf ,"  said  his  wife.  "  Gladys, 
pour  your  father  out  a  nice,  strong,  'ot  cup  o'  tea; 
and  don't  forget  that  the  train  starts  at  ha'-past 
ten." 

"  It'll  start  all  right  when  it  sees  me,"  observed 
Mr.  Jobson,  squinting  down  at  his  trousers. 

Mother  and  children,  delighted  with  the  success 
of  their  scheme,  laughed  applause,  and  Mr. 
Jobson,  somewhat  gratified  at  the  success  of  his 
retort,  sat  down  and  attacked  his  breakfast.     A 


FINE   FEATHERS  T 

short  clay  pipe,  smoked  as  a  digestive,  was  im- 
pounded by  the  watchful  Mrs.  Jobson  the  moment 
he  had  finished  it. 


"can    I   'AVE   IT  TOOK   OFF   WHILE    I    EAT    MY    BLOATER? ' 


"  He'd  smoke  it  along  the  street  if  I  didn't," 
she  declared. 


8  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"And  why  not?"  demanded  her  husband.  **  I 
always  do." 

"  Not  in  a  top-'at,"  said  Mrs.  Jobson,  shaking 
her  head  at  him. 

''  Or  a  tail-coat,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  One  would  spoil  the  other,"  said  Gladys. 

"  I  wish  something  would  spoil  the  hat,"  said 
Mr.  Jobson,  wistfully.  "It's  no  good;  I  must 
smoke,  mother." 

Mrs.  Jobson  smiled,  and,  going  to  the  cupboard, 
produced,  with  a  smile  of  triumph,  an  envelope 
containing  seven  dangerous-looking  cigars.  Mr. 
Jobson  whistled,  and  taking  one  up  examined  it 
carefully. 

"What  do  they  call  'em,  mother.'* "  he  inquired. 
"  The  '  Cut  and  Try  Again  Smokes '  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jobson  smiled  vaguely.  "  Me  and  the 
girls  are  going  upstairs  to  get  ready  now,"  she  said. 
"  Keep  your  eye  on  him,  Bert !  " 

Father  and  son  grinned  at  each  other,  and,  to 
pass  the  time,  took  a  cigar  apiece.  They  had  just 
finished  them  when  a  swish  and  rustle  of  skirts 
sounded  from  the  stairs,  and  Mrs.  Jobson  and  the 
girls,  beautifully  attired,   entered  the  room   and 


FINE  FEATHERS  9 

stood  buttoning  their  gloves.  A  strong  smell  of 
scent  fought  with  the  aroma  of  the  cigars. 

"  You  get  round  me  like,  so  as  to  hide  me  a  bit," 
entreated  Mr.  Jobson,  as  they  quitted  the  house. 
"  I  don't  mind  so  much  when  we  get  out  of  our 
street." 

Mrs.  Jobson  laughed  his  fears  to  scorn. 

"  Well,  cross  the  road,  then,"  said  Mr.  Jobson, 
urgently.  "  There's  Bill  Foley  standing  at  his 
door." 

His  wife  sniffed.  "  Let  him  stand,"  she  said, 
haughtily. 

Mr.  Foley  failed  to  avail  himself  of  the  per- 
mission. He  regarded  Mr.  Jobson  with  dilated 
eyeballs,  and,  as  the  party  approached,  sank 
slowly  into  a  sitting  position  on  his  doorstep,  and 
as  the  door  opened  behind  him  rolled  slowly  over 
on  to  his  back  and  presented  an  enormous  pair 
of  hob-nailed  soles  to  the  gaze  of  an  interested 
world. 

"  I  told  you  'ow  it  would  be,"  said  the  blushing 
Mr.  Jobson.  "  You  know  what  Bill's  like  as  well 
as  I  do." 

His  wife  tossed  her  head  and  they  all  quickened 


10  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

their  pace.  The  voice  of  the  ingenious  Mr.  Foley 
calling  piteously  for  his  mother  pursued  them  to 
the  end  of  the  road. 

"  I  knew  what  it  'ud  be,"  said  Mr.  Jobson, 
wiping  his  hot  face.  "  Bill  will  never  let  me  'ear 
the  end  of  this." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  his  wife,  bridling.  *'  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  you've  got  to  ask  Bill  Foley  'ow 
you're  to  dress?  He'll  soon  get  tired  of  it;  and, 
besides,  it's  just  as  well  to  let  him  see  who  you  are. 
There's  not  many  tradesmen  as  would  lower 
themselves  by  mixing  with  a  plasterer." 

Mr.  Jobson  scratched  his  ear,  but  wisely  re- 
frained from  speech.  Once  clear  of  his  own 
district  mental  agitation  subsided,  but  bodily  dis- 
comfort increased  at  every  step.  The  hat  and  the 
collar  bothered  him  most,  but  every  article  of 
attire  contributed  its  share.  His  uneasiness  was 
so  manifest  that  Mrs.  Jobson,  after  a  little 
womanly  sympathy,  suggested  that,  besides 
Sundays,  it  might  be  as  well  to  wear  them 
occasionally  of  an  evening  in  order  to  get  used  to 
them. 

*'  What,    'ave    I    got    to    wear    them    every 


FINE   FEATHERS  11 

Sunday?"  demanded  the  unfortunate,  blankly; 
"why,  I  thought  they  was  only  for  Bank 
Holidays/' 

Mrs.  Jobson  told  him  not  to  be  silly. 

"  Straight,  I  did,"  said  her  husband,  earnestly. 
"You've  no  idea  'ow  I'm  suffering;  I've  got  a 
headache,  I'm  arf  choked,  and  there's  a  feeling 
about  my  waist  as  though  I'm  being  cuddled  by 
somebody  I  don't  like." 

Mrs.  Jobson  said  it  would  soon  wear  off,  and, 
seated  in  the  train  that  bore  them  to  the  Crystal 
Palace,  put  the  hat  on  the  rack.  Her  husband's 
attempt  to  leave  it  in  the  train  was  easily  frustrated 
and  his  explanation  that  he  had  forgotten  all 
about  it  received  in  silence.  It  was  evident  that 
he  would  require  watching,  and  under  the  clear 
gaze  of  his  children  he  seldom  had  a  button 
undone  for  more  than  three  minutes  at  a  time. 

The  day  was  hot  and  he  perspired  profusely. 
His  collar  lost  its  starch — a  thing  to  be  grateful 
for — and  for  the  greater  part  of  the  day  he  wore 
his  tie  under  the  left  ear.  By  the  time  they  had 
arrived  home  again  he  was  in  a  state  of  open 
mutiny. 


12  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Never  again,"  he  said,  loudly,  as  he  tore  the 
collar  off  and  hung  his  coat  on  a  chair. 

There  was  a  chorus  of  lamentation;  but  he  re- 
mained firm.  Dorothy  began  to  sniff  ominously, 
and  Gladys  spoke  longingly  of  the  fathers  pos- 
sessed by  other  girls.  It  was  not  until  Mrs. 
Jobson  sat  eyeing  her  supper,  instead  of  eating  it, 
that  he  began  to  temporize.  He  gave  way  bit  by 
bit,  garment  by  garment.  When  he  gave  way  at 
last  on  the  great  hat  question,  his  wife  took  up  her 
knife  and  fork. 

His  workaday  clothes  appeared  in  his  bedroom 
next  morning,  but  the  others  still  remained  in  the 
clutches  of  Aunt  Emma.  The  suit  provided  was 
of  considerable  antiquity,  and  at  closing  time,  Mr. 
Jobson,  after  some  hesitation,  donned  his  new 
clothes  and  with  a  sheepish  glance  at  his  wife 
went  out.  Mrs.  Jobson  nodded  delight  at  her 
daughters. 

"  He's  coming  round,"  she  whispered.  "  He 
liked  that  ticket-collector  calling  him  '  sir'  vester- 
day.  I  noticed  it.  He's  put  on  everything  but  the 
topper.  Don't  say  nothing  about  it;  take  it  as  a 
matter  of  course." 


FINE   FEATHERS  13 

It  became  evident  as  the  days  wore  on  that  she 
was  right.  Bit  by  bit  she  obtained  the  other 
clothes — with  some  difficulty — from  Aunt  Emma, 
but  her  husband  still  wore  his  best  on  Sundays 
and  sometimes  of  an  evening ;  and  twice,  on  going 
into  the  bedroom  suddenly,  she  had  caught  him 
surveying  himself  at  different  angles  in  the  glass. 
And,  moreover,  he  had  spoken  with  some  heat — 
for  such  a  good-tempered  man — on  the  shortcom- 
ings of  Dorothy's  laundry  work. 

We'd  better  put  your  collars  out,"  said  his  wife. 
And  the  shirts,"  said  Mr.  Jobson.    "  Nothing 
looks  worse  than  a  bad  got-up  cuff." 

"  You're  getting  quite  dressy,"  said  his  wife, 
with  a  laugh. 

Mr.  Jobson  eyed  her  seriously. 

"  No,  mother,  no,"  he  replied.  "  All  I've  done 
is  to  find  out  that  you're  right,  as  you  always  'ave 
been.  A  man  in  my  persition  has  got  no  right  to 
dress  as  if  he  kept  a  stall  on  the  kerb.  It  ain't  fair 
to  the  gals,  or  to  young  Bert.  I  don't  want  'em  to 
be  ashamed  of  their  father." 

"  They  wouldn't  be  that,"  said  Mrs.  Jobson. 

"  I'm   trying  to   improve,"   said   her  husband. 


i( 


II 


14  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  O'  course,  it's  no  use  dressing  up  and  behaving 
wrong,  and  yesterday  I  bought  a  book  what  tells 
you  all  about  behaviour." 

"  Well  done  !  "  said  the  delighted  Mrs.  Jobson. 

Mr.  Jobson  was  glad  to  find  that  her  opinion 
on  his  purchase  was  shared  by  the  rest  of  the 
family.  Encouraged  by  their  approval,  he  told 
them  of  the  benefit  he  was  deriving  from  it;  and 
at  tea-time  that  day,  after  a  little  hesitation,  ven- 
tured to  affirm  that  it  was  a  book  that  might  do 
them  all  good. 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  said  Gladys. 

"  For  one  thing,"  said  Mr.  Jobson,  slowly,  "  I 
didn't  know  before  that  it  was  wrong  to  blow  your 
tea;  and  as  for  drinking  it  out  of  a  saucer,  the 
book  says  it's  a  thing  that  is  only  done  by  the 
lower  orders." 

"If  you're  in  a  hurry?"  demanded  Mr.  Bert 
Jobson,  pausing  with  his  saucer  half-way  to  his 
mouth. 

"  If  you're  in  anything,"  responded  his  father. 
"A  gentleman  would  rather  go  without  his  tea 
than  drink  it  out  of  a  saucer.  That's  the  sort  o' 
thing  Bill  Foley  would  do." 


FINE   FEATHERS  15 

Mr.  Bert  Jobson  drained  his  saucer  thought- 
fully. 

"  Picking-  your  teeth  with  your  finger  is  wrong, 
too,"  said  Mr.  Jobson,  taking  a  breath.  "  Food 
should  be  removed  in  a — a — un — undemonstrative 
fashion  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue." 

"  I  wasn't,"  said  Gladys. 

"  A  knife,"  pursued  her  father — "  a  knife  should 
never  in  any  circumstances  be  allowed  near  the 
mouth." 

"  You've  made  mother  cut  herself,"  said 
Gladys,  sharply;  "that's  what  you've  done." 

"  I  thought  it  was  my  fork,"  said  Mrs,  Jobson. 
"  I  was  so  busy  listening  I  wasn't  thinking  what 
I  was  doing.    Silly  of  me." 

"We  shall  all  do  better  in  time,"  said  Mr. 
Jobson.  "  But  what  I  want  to  know  is,  what  about 
the  gravy?  You  can't  eat  it  with  a  fork,  and  it 
don't  say  nothing  about  a  spoon.  Oh,  and  what 
about  our  cold  tubs,  mother?  " 

"  Cold  tubs?  "  repeated  his  wife,  staring  at  him. 
"What  cold  tubs  ?  " 

"  The  cold  tubs  me  and  Bert  ought  to  'ave," 
said  Mr.  Jobson.     "  It  says  in  the  book  that  an 


16  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Englishman  would  just  as  soon  think  of  going 
without  his  breakfus'  as  his  cold  tub;  and  you 
know  how  fond  I  am  of  my  breakfus'." 

"And  what  about  me  and  the  gals?"  said  the 
amazed  Mrs.  Jobson. 

"  Don't  you  worry  about  me,  ma,"  said  Gladys, 
hastily. 

"  The  book  don't  say  nothing  about  gals;  it  says 
Englishmen,"  said  Mr.  Jobson. 

"  But  we  ain't  got  a  bathroom,"  said  his  son. 

"  It  don't  signify,"  said  Mr.  Jobson.  "  A  wash- 
tub'U  do.  Me  and  Bert'll  'ave  a  washtub  each 
brought  up  overnight;  and  it'll  be  exercise  for 
the  gals  bringing  the  water  up  of  a  morning  to 
us." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  said  the  be- 
wildered Mrs.  Jobson.  "  Anyway,  you  and  Bert'll 
'ave  to  carry  the  tubs  up  and  down.  Messy,  / 
call  it." 

"  It's  got  to  be  done,  mother,"  said  Mr.  Jobson 
cheerfully.  "  It's  only  the  lower  orders  what  don't 
'ave  their  cold  tub  reg'lar.    The  book  says  so." 

He  trundled  the  tub  upstairs  the  same  night 
and,   after   his   wife   had   gone   downstairs   next 


FINE   FEATHERS  17 

morning,  opened  the  door  and  took  in  the  can  and 
pail  that  stood  outside.  He  poured  the  contents 
into  the  tub,  and,  after  eyeing  it  thoughtfully  for 
some  time,  agitated  the  surface  with  his  right  foot. 
He  dipped  and  dried  that  much  enduring  member 
some  ten  times,  and  after  regarding  the  damp  con- 
dition of  the  towels  with  great  satisfaction,  dressed 
himself  and  went  downstairs. 

"  I'm  all  of  a  glow,"  he  said,  seating  himself  at 
the  table.  "  I  believe  I  could  eat  a  elephant.  I 
feel  as  fresh  as  a  daisy ;  don't  you,  Bert  ?  " 

Mr.  Jobson,  junior,  who  had  just  come  in  from 
the  shop,  remarked,  shortly,  that  he  felt  more  like 
a  blooming  snowdrop. 

"  And  somebody  slopped  a  lot  of  water  over  the 
stairs  carrying  it  up,"  said  Mrs.  Jobson.  "  I  don't 
believe  as  everybody  has  cold  baths  of  a  morning. 
It  don't  seem  wholesome  to  me." 

Mr.  Jobson  took  a  book  from  his  pocket,  and 
opening  it  at  a  certain  page,  handed  it  over  to  her. 

"  If  I'm  going  to  do  the  thing  at  all  I  must  do 
it  properly,"  he  said,  gravely.  "  I  don't  suppose 
Bill  Foley  ever  'ad  a  cold  tub  in  his  life ;  he  don't 
know  no  better.    Gladys!  " 


18  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Halloa  !  "  said  that  young  lady,  with  a  start. 

"  Are  you — are  you  eating  that  kipper  with  your 
fingers  ?  " 

Gladys  turned  and  eyed  her  mother  appeal- 
ingly. 

"  Page — page  one  hundred  and  something,  I 
think  it  is,"  said  her  father,  with  his  mouth  full. 
"  *  Manners  at  the  Dinner  Table/  It's  near  the 
end  of  the  book,  I  know." 

"  If  I  never  do  no  worse  than  that  I  shan't  come 
to  no  harm,"  said  his  daughter. 

Mr.  Jobson  shook  his  head  at  her,  and  after 
eating  his  breakfast  with  great  care,  wiped  his 
mouth  on  his  handkerchief  and  went  into  the 
shop. 

"  I  suppose  it's  all  right,"  said  Mrs.  Jobson, 
looking  after  him,  "  but  he's  taking  it  very  serious 
— very." 

"  He  washed  his  hands  five  times  yesterday 
morning,"  said  Dorothy,  who  had  just  come  in 
from  the  shop  to  her  breakfast;  "and  kept  cus- 
tomers waiting  while  he  did  it,  too." 

"  It's  the  cold-tub  business  I  can't  get  over," 
said  her  mother.     "  I'm  sure  it's  more  trouble  to 


FINE   FEATHERS  19 

empty  them  than  what  it  is  to  fill  them.  There's 
quite  enough  work  in  the  'ouse  as  it  is." 

"Too  much,"  said  Bert,  with  unwonted  con- 
sideration. 

"  I  wish  he'd  leave  me  alone,"  said  Gladys. 
"  My  food  don't  do  me  no  good  when  he's 
watching  every  mouthful  I  eat." 

Of  murmurings  such  as  these  Mr.  Jobson  heard 
nothing,  and  in  view  of  the  great  improvement  in 
his  dress  and  manners,  a  strong  resolution  was 
passed  to  avoid  the  faintest  appearance  of  discon- 
tent. Even  when,  satisfied  with  his  own  appear- 
ance, he  set  to  work  to  improve  that  of  Mrs. 
Jobson,  that  admirable  woman  made  no  complaint. 
Hitherto  the  brightness  of  her  attire  and  the  size 
of  her  hats  had  been  held  to  atone  for  her  lack  of 
figure  and  the  roomy  comfort  of  her  boots,  but  Mr. 
Jobson,  infected  with  new  ideas,  refused  to  listen 
to  such  sophistry.  He  went  shopping  with 
Dorothy;  and  the  Sunday  after,  when  Mrs.  Jobson 
went  for  an  airing  with  him,  she  walked  in  boots 
with  heels  two  inches  high  and  toes  that  ended 
in  a  point.  A  waist  that  had  disappeared  some 
years  before  was  recaptured  and  placed  in  durance 

C  2 


20  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

vile;  and  a  hat  which  called  for  a  new  style  of 
hair-dressing  completed  the  effect. 

"  You  look  splendid,  ma  !  "  said  Gladys,  as  she 
watched  their  departure.    "  Splendid  !  " 

"  I  don't  feel  splendid,"  sighed  Mrs.  Jobson  to 
her  husband.    "  These  'ere  boots  feel  red-'ot." 

"  Your  usual  size,"  said  Mr.  Jobson,  looking 
across  the  road. 

"And  the  clothes  seem  just  a  teeny-weefiy  bit 
tight,  p'r'aps,"  continued  his  wife. 

Mr.  Jobson  regarded  her  critically.  "  P'r'aps 
they  might  have  been  let  out  a  quarter  of  an  inch," 
he  said,  thoughtfully.  "  They're  the  best  fit 
you've  'ad  for  a  long  time,  mother.  I  only  'ope 
the  gals'll  'ave  such  good  figgers." 

His  wife  smiled  faintly,  but,  with  little  breath 
for  conversation  walked  on  for  some  time  in 
silence.  A  growing  redness  of  face  testified  to 
her  distress. 

"  I — I  feel  awful,"  she  said  at  last,  pressing  her 
hand  to  her  side.     ''Awful.'' 

"  You'll  soon  get  used  to  it,"  said  Mr.  Jobson, 
gently.  "  Look  at  me  !  I  felt  like  you  do  at  first, 
and  now  I  wouldn't  go  back  to  old  clothes — and 


FINE   FEATHERS  21 

comfort — for  anything.    You'll  get  to  love  them 
boots." 

"  If  I  could  only  take  'em  off  I  should  love  'em 
better,"  said  his  wife,  panting;  "and  I  can't 
breathe  properly — I  can't  breathe." 

"  You  look  ripping,  mother,"  said  her  husband, 
simply. 

His  wife  essayed  another  smile,  but  failed.  She 
set  her  lips  together  and  plodded  on,  Mr.  Jobson 
chatting  cheerily  and  taking  no  notice  of  the  fact 
that  she  kept  lurching  against  him.  Two  miles 
from  home  she  stopped  and  eyed  him  fixedly. 

"  If  I  don't  get  these  boots  off,  Alf,  I  shall  be  a 
'elpless  cripple  for  the  rest  of  my  days,"  she 
murmured.     "  My  ankle's  gone  over  three  times." 

"  But  you  can't  take  'em  off  here,"  said  Mr. 
Jobson,  hastily.    "  Think  'ow  it  would  look." 

"  I  must  'ave  a  cab  or  something,"  said  his  wife, 
hysterically.    "  If  I  don't  get  'em  off  soon  I  shall 


scream." 


She  leaned  against  the  iron  palings  of  a  house 
for  support,  while  Mr.  Jobson,  standing  on  the 
kerb,  looked  up  and  down  the  road  for  a  cab.  A 
four-wheeler  appeared  just  in  time  to  prevent  the 


22 


SHIP'S   COMPANY 


scandal  of  Mrs.  Jobson  removing  her  boots  in  the 
street. 

"  Thank  goodness,"  she  gasped,  as  she  climbed 


BKKN    PADDI.IN'?"    HK    INQUIRED 


in.    ''  Never  mind  about  untying  'em,  Alf ;  cut  the 
laces  and  get  'em  off  quick." 

They  drove  home  with  the  boots  standing  side 


FINE   FEATHERS  23 

by  side  on  the  seat  in  front  of  them.  Mr.  Jobson 
got  out  first  and  knocked  at  the  door,  and  as  soon 
as  it  opened  Mrs.  Jobson  pattered  across  the 
intervening  space  with  the  boots  dangling  from 
her  hand.  She  had  nearly  reached  the  door  when 
Mr.  Foley,  who  had  a  diabolical  habit  of  always 
being  on  hand  when  he  was  least  wanted,  appeared 
suddenly  from  the  off-side  of  the  cab. 
"Been  paddlin'?"  he  inquired. 
Mrs.  Jobson,  safe  in  her  doorway,  drew  herself 
up  and,  holding  the  boots  behind  her,  surveyed 
him  with  a  stare  of  high-bred  disdain. 

"  I  see  you  going  down  the  road  in  'em,"  said 
the  unabashed  Mr.  Foley,  "and  I  says  to  myself, 
I  says,  '  Pride  '11  bear  a  pinch,  but  she's  going 
too  far.  If  she  thinks  that  she  can  squeedge 
those    little    tootsy-wootsies    of    'ers    into    them 

boo ' " 

The    door   slammed    violently    and    left    him 
exchanging  grins  with  Mr.  Jobson. 
"  How's  the  'at?  "  he  inquired. 
Mr.  Jobson  winked.     "  Bet  you  a  level  'arf- 
dollar  I  ain't  wearing  it  next  Sunday,"  he  said,  in 
a  hoarse  whisper. 


24  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Foley  edged  away. 

"  Not  good  enough,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head. 
"  I've  had  a  good  many  bets  with  you  first  and 
last,  Alf,  but  I  can't  remember  as  I  ever  won  one 
yet.     So  long." 


II 

FRIENDS   IN   NEED 


Mr.  Joseph  Gibbs  finished  his  half-pint  in  the 
private  bar  of  the  '  Red  Lion '  with  the  slowness 
of  a  man  unable  to  see  where  the  next  was  coming 
from,  and,  placing  the  mug  on  the  counter,  filled 
his  pipe  from  a  small  paper  of  tobacco  and  shook 
his  head  slowly  at  his  companions. 

"  First  I've  'ad  since  ten  o'clock  this  morning," 
he  said,  in  a  hard  voice. 

25 


26  SHIP'S   COIMPANY 

"  Cheer  up,"  said  Mr.  George  Brown. 

"  It  can't  go  on  for  ever,"  said  Bob  Kidd, 
encouragingly. 

"All  I  ask  for — is  work,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs, 
impressively.   "  Not  slavery,  mind  yer,  but  work." 

"  It's  rather  difficult  to  distinguish,"  said  Mr. 
Brown. 

"  'Specially  for  some  people,"  added  Mr.  Kidd. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  gloomily.  "  Go  on. 
Stand  a  man  'arf  a  pint,  and  then  go  and  hurt  'is 
feelings.  Twice  yesterday  I  wondered  to  myself 
what  it  would  feel  like  to  make  a  hole  in  the 
water." 

"  Lots  o'  chaps  do  do  it,"  said  Mr.  Brown, 
musingly. 

*'  And  leave  their  wives  and  families  to  starve,'* 
said  Mr.  Gibbs,  icily. 

"Very  often  the  wife  is  better  off,"  said  his 
friend.  "  It's  one  mouth  less  for  her  to  feed. 
Besides,  she  gen'rally  gets  something.  When  pore 
old  Bill  went  they  'ad  a  Friendly  Lead  at  the 
'  King's  Head '  and  got  his  missis  pretty  nearly 
seventeen  pounds." 

"And  I  believe  we'd  get  more  than  that  for 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED  2T 

your  old  woman,"  said  Mr.  Kidd.  "  There's  no 
kids,  and  she  could  keep  'erself  easy.  Not  that 
I  want  to  encourage  you  to  make  away  with 
yourself." 

Mr.  Gibbs  scowled  and,  tilting  his  mug,  peered 
gloomily  into  the  interior. 

"Joe  won't  make  no  'ole  in  the  water,"  said 
Mr.  Brown,  wagging  his  head.  "  If  it  was  beer, 
now " 

Mr.  Gibbs  turned  and,  drawing  himself  up  to 
five  feet  three,  surveyed  the  speaker  with  an 
offensive  stare. 

"  I  don't  see  why  he  need  make  a  'ole  in  any- 
thing," said  Mr.  Kidd,  slowly.  "  It  'ud  do  just  as 
well  if  we  said  he  'ad.  Then  we  could  pass  the 
hat  round  and  share  it." 

"  Divide  it  into  three  halves  and  each  'ave  one," 
said  Mr.  Brown,  nodding;  "but  'ow  is  it  to  be 
done  ?  " 

"  'Ave  some  more  beer  and  think  it  over,"  said 
Mr.  Kidd,  pale  with  excitement.  "Three  pints, 
please." 

He  and  Mr.  Brown  took  up  their  pints,  and 
nodded  at  each  other.     Mr.  Gibbs,  toying  idly 


28  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

with  the  handle  of  his,  eyed  them  carefully. 
"  Mind,  I'm  not  promising  anything,"  he  said, 
slowly.  "  Understand,  I  ain't  a-committing  of 
myself  by  drinking  this  'ere  pint." 

*'  You  leave  it  to  me,  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Kidd. 

Mr.  Gibbs  left  it  to  him  after  a  discussion  in 
which  pints  played  a  persuasive  part;  with  the 
result  that  Mr.  Brown,  sitting  in  the  same  bar  the 
next  evening  with  two  or  three  friends,  was  rudely 
disturbed  by  the  cyclonic  entrance  of  Mr.  Kidd, 
who,  dripping  with  water,  sank  on  a  bench  and 
breathed  heavily. 

"What's  up?  What's  the  matter.?"  demanded 
several  voices. 

"  It's  Joe — poor  Joe  Gibbs,"  said  Mr.  Kidd. 
"  I  was  on  Smith's  wharf  shifting  that  lighter  to 
the  next  berth,  and,  o'  course  Joe  must  come 
aboard  to  help.  He  was  shoving  her  off  with  'is 
foot  when " 

He  broke  off  and  shuddered  and,  accepting  a 
mug  of  beer,  pending  the  arrival  of  some  brandy 
that  a  sympathizer  had  ordered,  drank  it  slowly. 

"  It  all  'appened  in  a  flash,"  he  said,  looking 
round.    "  Bv  the  time  I  'ad  run  round  to  his  end 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED  29 

he  was  just  going  down  for  the  third  time.  I  hung 
over  the  side  and  grabbed  at  'im,  and  his  collar 
and  tie  came  off  in  my  hand.     Nearly  went  in,  I 

did." 

He  held  out  the  collar  and  tie;  and  approving 
notice  was  taken  of  the  fact  that  he  was  soaking 
wet  from  the  top  of  his  head  to  the  middle  button 
of  his  waistcoat. 

"  Pore  chap !  "  said  the  landlord,  leaning  over 
the  bar.  "  He  was  in  'ere  only  'arf  an  hour  ago, 
standing  in  this  very  bar." 

"Well,  he's  'ad  his  last  drop  o'  beer,"  said  a 
carman  in  a  chastened  voice. 

"  That's  more  than  anybody  can  say,"  said  the 
landlord,  sharply.  "  I  never  heard  anything 
against  the  man;  he's  led  a  good  life  so  far  as  I 
know,  and  'ow  can  we  tell  that  he  won't  'ave 
beer?" 

He  made  Mr.  Kidd  a  present  of  another  small 
glass  of  brandy. 

"He  didn't  leave  any  family,  did  he?"  he 
inquired,  as  he  passed  it  over. 

"Only  a  wife,"  said  Mr.  Kidd;  "and  who's  to 
tell  that  pore  soul  I  don't  know.    She  fair  doated 


so  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

on  'im.  'Ow  she's  to  live  I  don't  know.  I  shall 
do  what  I  can  for  'er." 

"  Same  'ere,"  said  Mr.  Brown,  in  a  deep  voice. 

"  Something  ought  to  be  done  for  'er,"  said 
the  carman,  as  he  went  out. 

"  First  thing  is  to  tell  the  police,"  said  the 
landlord.  "  They  ought  to  know;  then  p'raps  one 
of  them'U  tell  her.     It's  what  they're  paid  for." 

"  It's  so  awfully  sudden.  I  don't  know  where 
I  am  'ardly,"  said  Mr.  Kidd.  "  I  don't  believe 
she's  got  a  penny-piece  in  the  'ouse.  Pore  Joe 
*ad  a  lot  o'  pals.  I  wonder  whether  we  couldn't 
get  up  something  for  her." 

"  Go  round  and  tell  the  police  first,"  said  the 
landlord,  pursing  up  his  lips  thoughtfully.  **  We 
can  talk  about  that  later  on." 

Mr.  Kidd  thanked  him  warmly  and  withdrew, 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Brown.  Twenty  minutes 
later  they  left  the  station,  considerably  relieved 
at  the  matter-of-fact  way  in  which  the  police  had 
received  the  tidings,  and,  hurrying  across  London 
Bridge,  made  their  way  towards  a  small  figure 
supporting  its  back  against  a  post  in  the  Borough 
market. 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED  31 

"Well?"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  snappishly,  as  he 
turned  at  the  sound  of  their  footsteps. 

"It'll  be  all  right,  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Kidd. 
"We've  sowed  the  seed." 

"Sowed  the  wot.-^"  demanded  the  other. 

Mr.  Kidd  explained. 

"Ho!"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  "An'  while  your 
precious  seed  is  a-coming  up,  wot  am  I  to  do? 
Wot  about  my  comfortable  'ome  ?  Wot  about  my 
bed — and  grub  ?  " 

His  two  friends  looked  at  each  other  uneasily. 
In  the  excitement  of  the  arrangements  they  had 
forgotten  these  things,  and  a  long  and  sometimes 
painful  experience  of  Mr.  Gibbs  showed  them 
only  too  plainly  where  they  were  drifting. 

"  You'll  'ave  to  get  a  bed  this  side  o'  the  river 
somewhere,"  said  Mr,  Brown,  slowly.  "  Coffee- 
shop  or  something;  and  a  smart,  active  man  wot 
keeps  his  eyes  open  can  always  pick  up  a  little 
money." 

Mr.  Gibbs  laughed. 

"And  mind,"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  furiously,  in 
reply  to  the  laugh,  "  anything  we  lend  you  is  to 
be  paid  back  out  of  your  half  when  you  get  it. 


32  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

And,  wot's  more,  you  don't  get  a  ha'penny  till 
you've  come  into  a  barber's  shop  and  'ad  them 
whiskers  off.    We  don't  want  no  accidents." 

Mr.  Gibbs,  with  his  back  against  the  post, 
fought  for  his  whiskers  for  nearly  half  an  hour, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time  was  led  into  a  barber's, 
and  in  a  state  of  sullen  indignation  proffered  his 
request  for  a  "clean"  shave.  He  gazed  at  the 
barefaced  creature  that  confronted  him  in  the 
glass  after  the  operation  in  open-eyed  consterna- 
tion, and  Messrs.  Kidd  and  Brown's  politeness 
easily  gave  way  before  their  astonishment. 

"  Well,  I  may  as  well  have  a  'air-cut  while 
I'm  here,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  after  a  lengthy 
survey. 

And  a  shampoo,  sir?  "  said  the  assistant. 
Just  as  you  like,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  turning  a 
deaf   ear  to  the   frenzied   expostulations   of   his 
financial  backers.     "Wot  is  it?" 

He  sat  in  amazed  discomfort  during  the  opera- 
tion, and  emerging  with  his  friends  remarked  that 
he  felt  half  a  stone  lighter.  The  information  was 
received  in  stony  silence,  and,  having  spent  some 
time  in  the  selection,  they  found  a  quiet  public- 


(( 


(( 


FRIENDS   IN  NEED 


33 


house,  and  in  a  retired  corner  formed  themselves 
into  a  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means. 

"  That'll  do  for  you  to  go  on  with,"  said  Mr. 


MR.    GIBBS,   WITH    HIS   BACK   AGAINST  THE   POST,    FOUGHT 
FOR   HIS  WHISKERS   FOR   NEARLY   HALF-AN-HOUR 

Kidd,  after  he  and  Mr.  Brown  had  each  made  a 
contribution;  "and,  mind,  it's  coming  off  of  youi 
share." 

Mr.   Gibbs  nodded.    "And  any  evening  you 

D 


34  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

want  to  see  me  you'll  find  me  in  here,"  he 
remarked.  "  Beer's  ripping.  Now  you'd  better 
go  and  see  my  old  woman." 

The  two  friends  departed,  and,  to  their  great 
relief,  found  a  little  knot  of  people  outside  the 
abode  of  Mrs.  Gibbs.  It  was  clear  that  the  news 
had  been  already  broken,  and,  pushing  their  way 
upstairs,  they  found  the  widow  with  a  damp  hand- 
kerchief in  her  hand  surrounded  by  attentive 
friends.  In  feeble  accents  she  thanked  Mr.  Kidd 
for  his  noble  attempts  at  rescue. 

"  He  ain't  dry  yet,"  said  Mr.  Brown. 

"  I  done  wot  I  could,"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  simply. 
"  Pore  Joe  !  Nobody  could  ha'  had  a  better  pal. 
Nobody !  " 

"Always  ready  to  lend  a  helping  'and  to  them 
as  was  in  trouble,  he  was,"  said  Mr.  Brown, 
looking  round. 

Ear,  'ear !  "  said  a  voice. 
And  we'll  lend  'im  a  helping  'and,"  said  Mr. 
Kidd,  energetically.    "  We  can't  do  'i??i  no  good, 
pore  chap,  but  we  can  try  and  do  something  for 
'er  as  is  left  behind." 

He  moved  slowly  to  the  door,  accompanied  by 


(I  >i 


C( 


FRIENDS    IN   NEED  35 

Mr.  Brown,  and  catching  the  eye  of  one  or  two 
of  the  men  beckoned  them  to  follow.  Under  his 
able  guidance  a  small  but  gradually  increasing 
crowd  made  its  way  to  the  "  Red  Lion." 

For  the  next  three  or  four  days  the  friends 
worked  unceasingly.  Cards  stating  that  a 
Friendly  Lead  would  be  held  at  the  "  Red  Lion," 
for  the  benefit  of  the  widow  of  the  late  Mr.  Joseph 
Gibbs,  were  distributed  broadcast;  and  anecdotes 
portraying  a  singularly  rare  and  beautiful  char- 
acter obtained  an  even  wider  circulation.  Too 
late  Wapping  realized  the  benevolent  disposition 
and  the  kindly  but  unobtrusive  nature  that  had 
departed  from  it  for  ever. 

Mr.  Gibbs,  from  his  retreat  across  the  water, 
fully  shared  his  friends'  enthusiasm,  but  an 
insane  desire — engendered  by  vanity — to  be 
present  at  the  function  was  a  source  of  consider- 
able trouble  and  annoyance  to  them.  When  he 
offered  to  black  his  face  and  take  part  in  the 
entertainment  as  a  nigger  minstrel,  Mr.  Kidd  had 
to  be  led  outside  and  kept  there  until  such  time  as 
he  could  converse  in  English  pure  and  undefiled. 

"  Getting  above  'imself ,  that's  wot  it  is,"  said 

D  2 


36  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Brown,  as  they  wended  their  way  home. 
"  He's  having  too  much  money  out  of  us  to 
spend;  but  it  won't  be  for  long  now." 

"  He's  having  a  lord's  life  of  it,  while  we're 
slaving  ourselves  to  death,"  grumbled  Mr.  Kidd. 
"  I  never  see  'im  looking  so  fat  and  well.  By 
rights  he  oughtn't  to  'ave  the  same  share  as  wot 
we're  going  to  'ave;  he  ain't  doing  none  of  the 
work." 

His  ill-humour  lasted  until  the  night  of  the 
**  Lead,"  which,  largely  owing  to  the  presence  of 
a  sporting  fishmonger  who  had  done  well  at  the 
races  that  day,  and  some  of  his  friends,  realized 
a  sum  far  beyond  the  expectations  of  the  hard- 
working promoters.  The  fishmonger  led  off  by 
placing  a  five-pound  note  in  the  plate,  and  the 
packed  audience  breathed  so  hard  that  the  plate- 
holder's  responsibility  began  to  weigh  upon  his 
spirits.  In  all,  a  financial  tribute  of  thirty-seven 
pounds  three  and  fourpence  was  paid  to  the 
memory  of  the  late  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  Over  twelve  quid  apiece,"  said  the  delighted 
Mr.  Kidd  as  he  bade  his  co-worker  good  niofht. 
^*  Sounds  too  good  to  be  true." 


FRIENDS    IN   NEED  37 

The  next  day  passed  all  too  slowly,  but  work 
was  over  at  last,  and  Mr.  Kidd  led  the  way  over 
London  Bridge  a  yard  or  two  ahead  of  the  more 
phlegmatic  Mr.  Brown.  Mr.  Gibbs  was  in  his  old 
corner  at  the  "  Wheelwright's  Arms,"  and,  instead 
of  going  into  ecstasies  over  the  sum  realized, 
hinted  darkly  that  it  would  have  been  larger  if 
he  had  been  allowed  to  have  had  a  hand  in  it. 

"  It'll  'ardly  pay  me  for  my  trouble,"  he  said, 
shaking  his  head.  "  It's  very  dull  over  'ere  all 
alone  by  myself.  By  the  time  you  two  have  'ad 
your  share,  besides  taking  wot  I  owe  you,  there'll 
be  'ardly  anything  left." 

"  I'll  talk  to  you  another  time,"  said  Mr.  Kidd, 
regarding  him  fixedly.  "  Wot  you've  got  to  do 
now  is  to  come  acrost  the  river  with  us." 

"Whaffor?"  demanded  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"We're  going  to  break  the  joyful  news  to  your 
old  woman  that  you're  alive  afore  she  starts 
spending  money  wot  isn't  hers,"  said  Mr.  Kidd. 
"And  we  want  you  to  be  close  by  in  case  she 
don't  believe  us." 

"  Well,  do  it  gentle,  mind,"  said  the  fond 
husband.    "  We  don't  want  'er  screaming,  or  any- 


38  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

thing  o'  that  sort.  I  know  'er  better  than  wot  you 
do,  and  my  advice  to  you  is  to  go  easy." 

He  walked  along  by  the  side  of  them,  and, 
after  some  demur,  consented,  as  a  further  dis- 
guise, to  put  on  a  pair  of  spectacles,  for  which 
Mr.  Kidd's  wife's  mother  had  been  hunting  high 
and  low  since  eight  o'clock  that  morning. 

"  You  doddle  about  'ere  for  ten  minutes,"  said 
Mr.  Kidd,  as  they  reached  the  Monument,  "  and 
then  foller  on.  When  you  pass  a  lamp-post  'old 
your  handkerchief  up  to  your  face.  And  wait  for  us 
at  the  corner  of  your  road  till  we  come  for  you." 

He  went  off  at  a  brisk  pace  with  Mr.  Brown, 
a  pace  moderated  to  one  of  almost  funereal 
solemnity  as  they  approached  the  residence  of 
Mrs.  Gibbs.  To  their  relief  she  was  alone,  and 
after  the  usual  amenities  thanked  them  warmly 
for  all  they  had  done  for  her. 

"  I'd  do  more  than  that  for  pore  Joe,"  said  Mr. 
Brown. 

''They — they  'aven't  found  'im  yet?"  said  the 
widow. 

Mr.  Kidd  shook  his  head.  "  My  idea  is  they 
won't  find  'im,"  he  said,  slowly. 


FRIENDS   IN  NEED  39 

"  Went  down  on  the  ebb  tide,"  explained  Mr. 
Brown;  and  spoilt  Mr.  Kidd's  opening. 

"Wherever  he  is  'e's  better  off,"  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs.  "  No  more  trouble  about  being  out  o' 
work;  no  more  worry;  no  more  pain.  We've  all 
got  to  go  some  day." 

"Yes,"  began  Mr.  Kidd;  "but " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  wish  'im  back,"  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs;  "that  would  be  sinful." 

"But  'ow  if  he  wanted  to  come  back?"  said 
Mr.  Kidd,  playing  for  an  opening. 

"  And  'elp  you  spend  that  money,"  said  Mr. 
Brown,  ignoring  the  scowls  of  his  friend. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  looked  bewildered.  "  Spend  the 
money?"  she  began. 

"  Suppose,"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  "  suppose  he 
wasn't  drownded  after  all?  Only  last  night  I 
dreamt  he  was  alive." 

"  So  did  I,"  said  Mr.  Brown. 

"  He  was  smiling  at  me,"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  in  a 
tender  voice.  "'Bob,'  he  ses,  'go  and  tell  my 
pore  missis  that  I'm  alive,'  he  ses ;  '  break  it  to 
'er  gentle.'" 

"  It's  the  very   words  he   said   to  me   in   my 


40  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

dream,"  said  Mr.  Brown.  "  Bit  strange,  ain't 
it?" 

"  Very,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  after  a  pause. 
"  I  suppose  you  haven't  been  dreaming  about 
'im?" 

"  No ;  I'm  a  teetotaller,"  said  the  widow. 

The  two  gentlemen  exchanged  glances,  and 
Mr.  Kidd,  ever  of  an  impulsive  nature,  resolved 
to  bring  matters  to  a  head. 

"  Wot  would  you  do  if  Joe  was  to  come  in  'ere 
at  this  door?"  he  asked. 

"  Scream  the  house  down,"  said  the  widow, 
promptly. 

"  Scream — scream  the  'ouse  down  ?  "  said  the 
distressed  Mr.  Kidd. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  nodded.  *'  I  should  go  screaming, 
raving  mad,"  she  said,  with  conviction. 

"  But — but  not  if  'e  was  alive  !  "  said  Mr.  Kidd. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  driving  at,"  said 
Mrs.  Gibbs.  "Why  don't  you  speak  out  plain? 
Poor  |oe  is  drownded,  you  know  that;  you  saw 
it  all,  and  yet  you  come  talking  to  me  about 
dreams  and  things." 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED  41 

Mr.  Kidd  bent  over  her  and  put  his  hand 
affectionately  on  her  shoulder.  "  He  escaped,'* 
he  said,  in  a  thrilling  whisper.  "  He's  alive  and 
well." 

"What?"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  starting  back. 

"  True  as  I  stand  'ere,"  said  Mr.  Kidd ;  "  ain't 
it,  George  ? " 

"  Truer,"  said  Mr.  Brown,  loyally. 

Mrs.  Gibbs  leaned  back,  gasping.  "  Alive  !  '" 
she  said.     "But  'ow.?     'Ow  can  he  be?" 

"  Don't  make  such  a  noise,"  said  Mr.  Kidd, 
earnestly.  "  Mind,  if  anybody  else  gets  to  'ear 
of  it  you'll  'ave  to  give  that  money  back." 

"  I'd  give  more  than  that  to  get  'im  back,"  said 
Mrs.  Gibbs,  wildly.  "  I  believe  you're  deceiving 
me.'* 

"  True  as  I  stand  'ere,"  asseverated  the  other. 
"  He's  only  a  minute  or  two  off,  and  if  it  wasn't 
for  you  screaming  I'd  go  out  and  fetch  'im 
in." 

"  I  won't  scream,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  not  if  I 
know  it's  flesh  and  blood.  Oh,  where  is  he?  Why 
don't  you  bring  'im  in?    Let  me  go  to  'im." 

"All  right,"  said   Mr.   Kidd,  with  a  satisfied 


42  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

smile  at  Mr.  Brown;  "all  in  good  time.  Fll  go 
and  fetch  'im  now;  but,  mind,  if  you  scream 
you'll  spoil  everything." 

He  bustled  cheerfully  out  of  the  room  and 
downstairs,  and  Mrs.  Gibbs,  motioning  Mr. 
Brown  to  silence,  stood  by  the  door  with  parted 
lips,  waiting.     Three  or  four  minutes  elapsed. 

"'Ere  they  come,"  said  Mr.  Brown,  as  foot- 
steps sounded  on  the  stairs.  "  Now,  no  scream- 
ing, mind !  " 

Mrs.  Gibbs  drew  back,  and,  to  the  gratification 
of  all  concerned,  did  not  utter  a  sound  as  Mr. 
Kidd,  followed  by  her  husband,  entered  the  room. 
She  stood  looking  expectantly  towards  the 
doorway. 

"Where  is  he?"  she  gasped. 

"Eh?"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  in  a  startled  voice. 
"Why,  here.     Don't  you  know  'im?" 

"  It's  me,  Susan,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"Oh,  I  might  'ave  known  it  was  a  joke,"  cried 
Mrs.  Gibbs,  in  a  faint  voice,  as  she  tottered  to  a 
chair.  "  Oh,  'ow  cruel  of  you  to  tell  me  my  pore 
Joe  was  alive  !     Oh,  'ow  could  you  ?  " 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED 


43 


"  Lor'  lumme,"  said  the  incensed  Mr.  Kidd, 
pushing  Mr.  Gibbs  forward.  "  Here  he  is.  Same 
as  you  saw  'im  last,  except  for  'is  whiskers.  Don't 
make    that   sobbing   noise ;   people'll    be  coming 


m. 


5} 


^^'^ 


t  v^  _  ^   a^'t-  —  ] 


"WHERE   IS   HE?"   SHE  GASPED 


"  Oh  !  Oh  !  Oh  !  Take  'im  away,"  cried  Mrs. 
Gibbs.  "  Go  and  play  your  tricks  with  somebody 
else's  broken  'art." 

''  But  it's  your  husband,"  said  Mr.  Brown. 

"  Take  'im  away,"  wailed  Mrs.  Gibbs. 


44  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Kidd,  grinding  his  teeth,  tried  to  think. 
"  'Ave  you  got  any  marks  on  your  body,  Joe  ? " 
he  inquired. 

"  I  ain't  got  a  mark  on  me,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs, 
with  a  satisfied  air,  "  or  a  blemish.  My  skin  is  as 
whi " 

"  That's  enough  about  your  skin,"  interrupted 
Mr.  Kidd,  rudely. 

"  If  you  ain't  all  of  you  gone  before  I  count 
ten,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  in  a  suppressed  voice, 
"  I'll  scream.  'Ow  dare  you  come  into  a  respect- 
able woman's  place  and  talk  about  your  skins? 
Are  you  going?  One!  Two!  Three!  Four  I 
Five !  " 

Her  voice  rose  with  each  numeral;  and  Mr. 
Gibbs  himself  led  the  way  downstairs,  and, 
followed  by  his  friends,  slipped  nimbly  round  the 
corner. 

"  It's  a  wonder  she  didn't  rouse  the  whole 
'ouse,"  he  said,  wiping  his  brow  on  his  sleeve; 
"and  where  should  we  ha'  been  then?  I  thought 
at  the  time  it  was  a  mistake  you  making  me  'ave 
my  whiskers  off,  but  I  let  you  know  best.  She's 
never  seen  me  without  'em.     I  'ad  a  remarkable 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED  45 

strong  growth  when  I  was  quite  a  boy.  While 
other  boys  was " 

"  Shut— up  !  "  vociferated  Mr.  Kidd. 

"  Shan't !  "  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  defiantly.  "  I've 
'ad  enough  of  being  away  from  my  comfortable 
little  'ome  and  my  wife;  and  I'm  going  to  let  'em 
start  growing  agin  this  very  night.  She'll  never 
reckernize  me  without  'em,  that's  certain." 

"  He's  right,  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Brown,  with  con- 
viction. 

"  D'ye  mean  to  tell  me  we've  got  to  wait  till 
'is  blasted  whiskers  grow?"  cried  Mr.  Kidd, 
almost  dancing  with  fury.  "And  go  on  keeping 
'im  in  idleness  till  they  do  ?  " 

"  You'll  get  it  all  back  out  o'  my  share,"  said 
Mr.  Gibbs,  with  dignity.  "  But  you  can  please 
yourself.  If  you  like  to  call  it  quits  now,  I  don't 
mind." 

Mr.  Brown  took  his  seething  friend  aside,  and 
conferred  with  him  in  low  but  earnest  tones. 
Mr.  Gibbs,  with  an  indifferent  air,  stood  by 
whistling  softly. 

"'Ow  long  will  they  take  to  grow?"  inquired 
Mr.  Kidd,  turning  to  him  with  a  growl. 


46  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Gibbs  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Can't 
say,"  he  replied;  "  but  I  should  think  two  or  three 
weeks  would  be  enough  for  'er  to  reckernize  me 
by.  If  she  don't,  we  must  wait  another  week  or 
so,  that's  all." 

"  Well,  there  won't  be  much  o'  your  share 
left,  mind  that,"  said  Mr.  Kidd,  glowering  at 
him. 

"I  can't  help  it,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  "You 
needn't  keep  reminding  me  of  it." 

They  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence ;  and 
for  the  next  fortnight  Mr.  Gibbs's  friends  paid 
nightly  visits  to  note  the  change  in  his  appearance, 
and  grumble  at  its  slowness. 

"  We'll  try  and  pull  it  off  to-morrow  night," 
said  Mr.  Kidd,  at  the  end  of  that  period.  "  I'm 
fair  sick  o'  lending  you  money." 

Mr.  Gibbs  shook  his  head  and  spoke  sagely 
about  not  spoiling  the  ship  for  a  ha'porth  o'  tar; 
but  Mr.  Kidd  was  obdurate. 

"  There's  enough  for  'er  to  reckernize  you  by," 
he  said,  sternly,  "  and  we  don't  want  other  people 
to.  Meet  us  at  the  Monument  at  eight  o'clock 
to-morrow  night,  and  we'll  get  it  over." 


FRIENDS   IN   NEED  47 

"  Give  your  orders,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  in  a  nasty 
voice. 

"  Keep  your  'at  well  over  your  eyes,"  com- 
manded Mr.  Kidd,  sternly.  "  Put  them  spetacles 
on  wot  I  lent  you,  and  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea 
if  you  tied  your  face  up  in  a  piece  o'  red  flannel." 

"  I  know  wot  I'm  going  to  do  without  you 
telling  me,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  nodding.  "  I'll  bet 
you  pots  round  that  you  don't  either  of  you 
reckernize  me  to-morrow  night." 

The  bet  was  taken  at  once,  and  from  eight 
o'clock  until  ten  minutes  to  nine  the  following 
night  Messrs.  Kidd  and  Brown  did  their  best  to 
win  it.  Then  did  Mr.  Kidd,  turning  to  Mr. 
Brown  in  perplexity,  inquire  with  many  redundant 
words  what  it  all  meant. 

"  He  must  'ave  gone  on  by  'imself ,"  said  Mr. 
Brown.    "  We'd  better  go  and  see." 

In  a  state  of  some  disorder  they  hurried  back 
to  Wapping,  and,  mounting  the  stairs  to  Mrs. 
Gibbs's  room,  found  the  door  fast.  To  their 
fervent  and  repeated  knocking  there  was  no 
answer. 

"  Ah,  you  won't  make  her  'ear,"  said  a  woman,. 


48  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

thrusting  an  untidy  head  over  the  balusters  on  the 
next  landing.    "  She's  gone." 

"  Gone/''  exclaimed  both  gentlemen.  **  Where  }'' 

"  Canada,"  said  the  woman.  "  She  went  off  this 
morning." 

Mr.  Kidd  leaned  up  against  the  wall  for 
support;  Mr.  Brown  stood  open-mouthed  and 
voiceless. 

"  It  was  a  surprise  to  me,"  said  the  woman,  "  but 
she  told  me  this  morning  she's  been  getting  ready 
on  the  quiet  for  the  last  fortnight.  Good  spirits 
she  was  in,  too ;  laughing  like  anything." 

"  Laughing!  "  repeated  Mr.  Kidd,  in  a  terrible 
voice. 

The  woman  nodded.  "And  when  I  spoke 
about  it  and  reminded  'er  that  she  'ad  only  just 
lost  'er  pore  husband,  I  thought  she  would  ha' 
burst,"  she  said,  severely.  "  She  sat  down  on  that 
stair  and  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  'er  face 
like  water." 

Mr.  Brown  turned  a  bewildered  face  upon  his 
partner.  "  Laughing  !  "  he  said,  slowly.  "  Wot 
ad  she  got  to  laugh  at  ? " 

"  Two— born— fools,"  replied  Mr.  Kidd. 


Ill 

GOOD   INTENTIONS 

"Jealousy;  that's  wot  it  is,"  said  the  night- 
watchman,  trying  to  sneer — "  pure  jealousy." 

He  had  left  his  broom  for  a  hurried  half-pint 
at  the  "  Bull's  Head" — left  it  leaning  in  a  negli- 
gent attitude  against  the  warehouse-wall ;  now, 
lashed  to  the  top  of  the  crane  at  the  jetty  end,  it 
pointed  its  soiled  bristles  towards  the  evening  sky 
and  defied  capture. 

"  And  I  know  who  it  is,  and  why  'e's  done  it," 
he  continued.  "  Fust  and  last,  I  don't  suppose  I 
was  talking  to  the  gal  for  more  than  ten  minutes, 
and  arf  of  that  was  about  the  weather. 

"  I  don't  suppose  anybody  'as  suffered  more 
from  jealousy  than  wot  I  'ave.  Other  people's 
jealousy,  I  mean.  Ever  since  I  was  married  the 
missis  has  been  setting  traps  for  me,  and  asking 
people  to  keep  an  eye  on  me.  I  blacked  one 
of  the  eyes  once — like  a  fool — and  the  chap  it 

E  49 


50  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

belonged  to  made  up  a  tale  about  me  that  I  ain't 
lived  down  yet. 

*'  Years  ago,  when  I  was  out  with  the  missis  one 
evening,  I  saved  a  gal's  life  for  her.  She  slipped 
as  she  was  getting  off  a  'bus,  and  I  caught  'er  just 
in  time.  Fine  strapping  gal  she  was,  and  afore 
I  could  get  my  balance  we  'ad  danced  round  and 
round  'arf-way  acrost  the  road  with  our  arms  round 
each  other's  necks,  and  my  missis  watching  us 
from  the  pavement.  When  we  were  safe,  she  said 
the  gal  'adn't  slipped  at  all;  and,  as  soon  as  the 
gal  'ad  got  'er  breath,  I'm  blest  if  she  didn't  say 
so  too. 

"  You  can't  argufy  with  jealous  people,  and  you 
can't  shame  'em.  When  I  told  my  missis  once 
that  I  should  never  dream  of  being  jealous  of  her, 
instead  of  up  and  thanking  me  for  it,  she  spoilt 
the  best  frying-pan  we  ever  had.  When  the 
widder-woman  next-door  but  two  and  me  'ad 
rheumatics  at  the  same  time,  she  went  and  asked 
the  doctor  whether  it  was  catching. 

"  The  worse  trouble  o'  that  kind  I  ever  got 
into  was  all  through  trying  to  do  somebody 
else  a  kindess.     I  went  out  o*  my  way  to  do  it; 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  51 

I  wasted  the  whole  evening  for  the  sake  of 
other  people,  and  got  into  such  trouble  over  it 
that  even  now  it  gives  me  the  cold  shivers  to 
think  of. 

"  Cap'n  Tarbell  was  the  man  I  tried  to  do  a 
good  turn  to;  a  man  that  used  to  be  master  of  a 
ketch  called  the  Lizzie  and  Annie,  trading  between 
'ere  and  Shoremouth.  'Artful  Jack'  he  used  to 
be  called,  and  if  ever  a  man  deserved  the  name, 
he  did.  A  widder-man  of  about  fifty,  and  as  silly 
as  a  boy  of  fifteen.  He  'ad  been  talking  of  getting 
married  agin  for  over  ten  years,  and,  thinking  it 
was  only  talk,  I  didn't  give  'im  any  good  advice. 
Then  he  told  me  one  night  that  'e  was  keeping 
company  with  a  woman  named  Lamb,  who  lived  at 
a  place  near  Shoremouth.  When  I  asked  'im  what 
she  looked  like,  he  said  that  she  had  a  good  'art, 
and,  knowing  wot  that  meant,  I  wasn't  at  all  sur- 
prised when  he  told  me  some  time  arter  that  'e 
had  been  a  silly  fool. 

" '  Well,  if  she's  got  a  good  'art,'  I  ses,  'p'r'aps 
she'll  let  you  go.' 

" '  Talk  sense,'  he  ses.  '  It  ain't  good  enough 
for  that.    Why,  she  worships  the  ground  I  tread 

E  2 


52  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

on.     She  thinks  there  is  nobody  like  me  in  the 
whole  wide  world.' 

"  '  Let's  'ope  she'll  think  so  arter  you're  married/ 
I  ses,  trying  to  cheer  him  up. 

"  '  I'm  not  going  to  get  married,'  he  ses.  '  Least- 
ways, not  to  'er.  But  'ow  to  get  out  of  it  without 
breaking  her  'art  and  being  had  up  for  breach  o' 
promise  I  can't  think.  And  if  the  other  one  got 
to  'ear  of  it,  I  should  lose  her  too.' 

"  *  Other  one  ? '  I  ses,  '  wot  other  one  ? ' 

"  Cap'n  Tarbell  shook  his  'ead  and  smiled  like 
a  silly  gal. 

"  '  She  fell  in  love  with  me  on  top  of  a  'bus  in  the 
Mile  End  Road,'  he  ses.  '  Love  at  fust  sight  it 
was.  She's  a  widder  lady  with  a  nice  little  'ouse 
at  Bow,  and  plenty  to  live  on — her  'usband  having 
been  a  builder.  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  You 
see,  if  I  married  both  of  'em  it's  sure  to  be  found 
out  sooner  or  later.' 

You'll  be  found  out  as  it  is,'  I  ses,  *  if  you 
ain't  careful.    I'm  surprised  at  you.' 

Yes,'  he  ses,  getting  up  and  walking  back- 
wards and  forwards;  'especially  as  Mrs.  Plimmer 
is  always  talking  about  coming  down  to  see  the 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  53 

ship.  One  thing  is,  the  crew  won't  give  me  away; 
they've  been  with  me  too  long  for  that.  P'r'aps 
you  could  give  me  a  little  advice,  Bill.' 

"  I  did.  I  talked  to  that  man  for  an  hour  and  a 
'arf ,  and  when  I  'ad  finished  he  said  he  didn't  want 
that  kind  of  advice  at  all.  Wot  'e  wanted  was 
for  me  to  tell  'im  'ow  to  get  rid  of  Miss  Lamb 
and  marry  Mrs.  Plimmer  without  anybody  being 
offended  or  having  their  feelings  hurt. 

"  Mrs.  Plimmer  came  down  to  the  ship  the  very 
next  evening.  Fine-looking  woman  she  was,  and, 
wot  with  'er  watch  and  chain  and  di'mond  rings 
and  brooches  and  such-like,  I  should  think  she 
must  'ave  'ad  five  or  six  pounds'  worth  of  jewell'ry 
on  'er.  She  gave  me  a  very  pleasant  smile,  and 
I  gave  'er  one  back,  and  we  stood  chatting  there 
like  old  friends  till  at  last  she  tore  'erself  away 
and  went  on  board  the  ship. 

"  She  came  off  by  and  by  hanging  on  Cap'n 
Tarbell's  arm.  The  cap'n  was  dressed  up  in  'is 
Sunday  clothes,  with  one  of  the  cleanest  collars 
on  I  'ave  ever  seen  in  my  life,  and  smoking  a  cigar 
that  smelt  like  an  escape  of  gas.  He  came  back 
alone  at  ha'past  eleven  that  night,  and  'e  told  me 


54  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

that  if  it  wasn't  for  the  other  one  down  Shore- 
mouth  way  he  should  be  the  'appiest  man  on  earth. 
" '  Mrs.  Plimmer's  only  got  one  fault,'  he  ses, 
shaking  his  'ead,  '  and  that's  jealousy.  If  she  got 
to  know  of  Laura  Lamb,  it  would  be  all  U.P.  It 
makes  me  go  cold  all  over  when  I  think  of  it.  The 
only  thing  is  to  get  married  as  quick  as  I  can ;  then 
she  can't  help  'erself .' 

" '  It  wouldn't  prevent  the  other  one  making 
a  fuss,  though,'  I  ses. 

"  '  No,'  he  ses,  very  thoughtfully,  'it  wouldn't. 
I  shall  'ave  to  do  something  there,  but  wot,  I  don't 
know.' 

"  He  climbed  on  board  like  a  man  with  a  load 
on  his  mind,  and  arter  a  look  at  the  sky  went  below 
and  forgot  both  'is  troubles  in  sleep. 

"  Mrs.  Plimmer  came  down  to  the  wharf  every 
time  the  ship  was  up,  arter  that.  Sometimes  she'd 
spend  the  evening  aboard,  and  sometimes  they'd 
go  off  and  spend  it  somewhere  else.  She  'ad  a 
fancy  for  the  cabin,  I  think,  and  the  cap'n  told 
me  that  she  'ad  said  when  they  were  married  she 
was  going  to  sail  with  'im  sometimes. 

** '  But  it  ain't  for  six  months  yet,'  he  ses,  '  and 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  55 

a  lot  o'  things  might  'appen  to  the  other  one  in 
that  time,  with  luck.' 

"  It  was  just  about  a  month  arter  that  that  'e 
came  to  me  one  evening  trembling  all  over.  I  'ad 
just  come  on  dooty,  and  afore  I  could  ask  'im  wot 
was  the  matter  he  'ad  got  me  in  the  '  Bull's  Head ' 
and  stood  me  three  'arf -pints,  one  arter  the  other. 

" '  I'm  ruined,'  he  ses,  in  a  'usky  whisper;  '  I'm 
done  for.  Why  was  wimmen  made?  Wot  good 
are  they  ?  Fancy  'ow  bright  and  'appy  we  should 
all  be  without  'em.' 

"  '  I  started  to  p'int  out  one  or  two  things  to  'im 
that  he  seemed  to  'ave  forgot,  but  'e  wouldn't 
listen.  He  was  so  excited  that  he  didn't  seem  to 
know  wot  'e  was  doing,  and  arter  he  'ad  got  three 
more  'arf -pints  waiting  for  me,  all  in  a  row  on  the 
counter,  I  'ad  to  ask  'im  whether  he  thought  I  was 
there  to  do  conjuring  tricks,  or  wot.^* ' 

There  was  a  letter  waiting  for  me  in  the 
office,'  he  ses.  '  From  Miss  Lamb — she's  in 
London.  She's  coming  to  pay  me  a  surprise  visit 
this  evening — I  know  who'll  get  the  surprise. 
Mrs.  Plimmer's  coming  too.' 

"  I  gave  'im  one  of  my  'arf -pints  and  made  'im 


56  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

drink  it.  He  chucked  the  pot  on  the  floor  when 
he  *ad  done,  in  a  desprit  sort  o'  way,  and  'im  and 
the  landlord  'ad  a  little  breeze  then  that  did  'im 
more  good  than  wot  the  beer  'ad.  When  we  came 
outside  'e  seemed  more  contented  with  'imself, 
but  he  shook  his  'ead  and  got  miserable  as  soon 
as  we  got  to  the  wharf  agin. 

" '  S'pose  they  both  come  along  at  the  same 
time,'  he  ses.    '  Wot's  to  be  done  ? ' 

"  I  shut  the  gate  with  a  bang  and  fastened  the 
wicket.    Then  I  turned  to  'im  with  a  smile. 

" '  I'm  watchman  'ere,'  I  ses,  '  and  I  lets  in  who 
I  thinks  I  will.  This  ain't  a  public  'ighway,*  I  ses ; 
'  it's  a  wharf.' 

" '  Bill,'  he  ses,  '  you're  a  genius.' 

" '  If  Miss  Lamb  comes  'ere  asking  arter  you,' 
I  ses, '  I  shall  say  you've  gone  out  for  the  evening.' 

"  '  Wot  about  her  letter? '  he  ses. 

" '  You  didn't  'ave  it,'  I  ses,  winking  at  'im. 

" '  And  suppose  she  waits  about  outside  for  me, 
and  Mrs.  Plimmer  wants  me  to  take  'er  out.-*'  he 
ses,  shivering.  '  She's  a  fearful  obstinate  waman ; 
and  she'd  wait  a  week  for  mc.' 

"  He  kept  peeping  up  the  road  while  we  talked 


GOOD    INTENTIONS  57 

it  over,  and  then  we  both  see  Mrs.  Plimmer 
coming  along.  He  backed  on  to  the  wharf  and 
pulled  out  'is  purse. 

" '  Bill,'  he  ses,  gabbling  as  fast  as  'e  could 
gabble,  '  here's  five  or  six  shillings.  If  the  other 
one  comes  and  won't  go  away  tell  'er  I've  gone 
to  the  Pagoda  Music-'all  and  you'll  take  'er  to 
me;  keep  'er  out  all  the  evening  some'ow,  if  you 
can;  if  she  comes  back  too  soon  keep  'er  in  the 
office.' 

" '  And  wot  about  leaving  the  wharf  and  my 
dooty?'  I  ses,  staring. 

" '  I'll  put  Joe  on  to  keep  watch  for  you,'  he 
ses,  pressing  the  money  in  my  'and.  '  I  rely  on 
you,  Bill,  and  111  never  forget  you.  You  won't 
lose  by  it,  trust  me.' 

"  He  nipped  off  and  tumbled  aboard  the  ship 
afore  I  could  say  a  word.  I  just  stood  there 
staring  arter  'im  and  feeling  the  money,  and  afore 
I  could  make  up  my  mind  Mrs.  Plimmer  came  up. 

"  I  thought  I  should  never  ha'  got  rid  of  'er. 
She  stood  there  chatting  and  smiling,  and  seemed 
to  forget  all  about  the  cap'n,  and  every  moment 
I  was  afraid  that  the  other  one  might  come  up. 


58  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

At  last  she  went  off,  looking  behind  'er,  to  the 
ship,  and  then  I  went  outside  and  put  my  back  up 
agin  the  gate  and  waited. 

"  I  'ad  hardly  been  there  ten  minutes  afore  the 
other  one  came  along.  I  saw  'er  stop  and  speak 
to  a  policeman,  and  then  she  came  straight  over  to 
me. 

"  '  I  want  to  see  Cap'n  Tarbell,'  she  ses. 

" '  Cap'n  Tarbell?'  I  ses,  very  slow;  'Cap'n 
Tarbell  'as  gone  off  for  the  evening.' 

*' '  Gone  off !  '  she  ses,  staring.  '  But  he  can't 
'ave.    Are  you  sure .'' ' 

" '  Sartain,'  I  ses.  Then  I  'ad  a  bright  idea. 
'And  there's  a  letter  come  for  'im,'  I  ses. 

"  '  Oh,  dear  ! '  she  ses.  '  And  I  thought  it  would 
be  in  plenty  of  time.  Well,  I  must  go  on  the 
ship  and  wait  for  'im,  I  suppose.' 

"  If  I  'ad  only  let  'er  go  I  should  ha'  saved 
myself  a  lot  o'  trouble,  and  the  man  wot  deserved 
it  would  ha'  got  it.  Instead  o'  that  I  told  'er 
about  the  music-'all,  and  arter  carrying  on  like  a 
silly  gal  o'  seventeen  and  saying  she  couldn't 
think  of  it,  she  gave  way  and  said  she'd  go  with 
me  to  find  'im.     I  was  all  right  so  far  as  clothes 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  59 

went  as  it  happened.  Mrs.  Plimmer  said  once 
that  I  got  more  and  more  dressy  every  time  she 
saw  me,  and  my  missis  'ad  said  the  same  thing 
only  in  a  different  way.  I  just  took  a  peep 
through  the  wicket  and  saw  that  Joe  'ad  taken  up 
my  dooty,  and  then  we  set  off. 

"  I  said  I  wasn't  quite  sure  which  one  he'd  gone 
to,  but  we'd  try  the  Pagoda  Music-'all  fust,  and 
we  went  there  on  a  'bus  from  Aldgate.  It  was  the 
fust  evening  out  I  'ad  'ad  for  years,  and  I  should 
'ave  enjoyed  it  if  it  'adn't  been  for  Miss  Lamb. 
Wotever  Cap'n  Tarbell  could  ha'  seen  in  'er,  I 
can't  think.  She  was  quiet,  and  stupid,  and  bad- 
tempered.  When  the  'bus-conductor  came  round 
for  the  fares  she  'adn't  got  any  change ;  and  when 
we  got  to  the  hall  she  did  such  eggsterrordinary 
things  trying  to  find  'er  pocket  that  I  tried  to  look 
as  if  she  didn't  belong  to  me.  When  she  left  off 
she  smiled  and  said  she  was  farther  off  than  ever, 
and  arter  three  or  four  wot  was  standing  there 
'ad  begged  'er  to  have  another  try,  I  'ad  to  pay 
for  the  two. 

"  The  'ouse  was  pretty  full  when  we  got  in,  but 
she  didn't  take  no  notice  of  that.     Her  idea  was 


60  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

that  she  could  walk  about  all  over  the  place 
looking  for  Cap'n  Tarbell,  and  it  took  three  men 
in  buttons  and  a  policeman  to  persuade  'er  dif- 
ferent. We  were  pushed  into  a  couple  o'  seats 
at  last,  and  then  she  started  finding  fault  with 
me. 

"  '  Where  is  Cap'n  Tarbell  ? '  she  ses.  '  Why 
don't  you  find  him  ? ' 

"  '  I'll  go  and  look  for  'im  in  the  bar  presently,' 
I  ses.  '  He's  sure  to  be  there,  arter  a  turn  or 
two.' 

"  I  managed  to  keep  'er  quiet  for  'arf  an  hour — 
with  the  'elp  of  the  people  wot  sat  near  us — and 
then  I  'ad  to  go.  I  'ad  a  glass  o'  beer  to  pass  the 
time  away,  and,  while  I  was  drinking  it,  who 
should  come  up  but  the  cook  and  one  of  the  hands 
from  the  Lizzie  and  Annie. 

" '  We  saw  you,'  ses  the  cook,  winking ;  '  didn't 
we  Bob  ? ' 

" '  Yes,*  ses  Bob,  shaking  his  silly  'ead ;  '  but  it 
wasn't  no  surprise  to  me.  I've  'ad  my  eye  on  'im 
for  a  long  time  past.' 

I  thought  'e  was  married,'  ses  the  cook. 

So  he  is,'  ses  Bob,  '  and  to  the  best  wife  in 


(( ( 


(<   c 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  61 

London.  I  know  where  she  lives.  Mine's  a 
bottle  o'  Bass/  he  ses,  turning  to  me. 

"  *  So's  mine/  ses  the  cook. 

"  I  paid  for  two  bottles  for  'em,  and  arter  that 
they  said  that  they'd  'ave  a  whisky-and-soda 
apiece  just  to  show  as  there  was  no  ill-feeling. 

*'  *  It's  very  good/  ses  Bob,  sipping  his,  '  but 
it  wants  a  sixpenny  cigar  to  go  with  it.  It's  been 
the  dream  o'  my  life  to  smoke  a  sixpenny  cigar.' 

" '  So  it  'as  mine,'  ses  the  cook,  *  but  I  don't 
suppose  I  ever  shall.' 

"  They  both  coughed  arter  that,  and  like  a 
good-natured  fool  I  stood  'em  a  sixpenny  cigar 
apiece,  and  I  'ad  just  turned  to  go  back  to  my  seat 
when  up  come  two  more  hands  from  the  Lizzie 
and  Annie. 

"  '  Halloa,  watchman  !  '  ses  one  of  'em.  '  Why, 
I  thought  you  was  a-taking  care  of  the  wharf.' 

" '  He's  got  something  better  than  the  wharf  to 
take  care  of,'  ses  Bob,  grinning. 

"'I  know;  we  see  'im,'  ses  the  other  chap. 
'We've  been  watching  'is  goings-on  for  the  last 
'arf-hour;  better  than  a  play  it  was.' 

"  I  stopped  their  mouths  with  a  glass  o'  bitter 


62  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

each,  and  went  back  to  my  seat  while  they  was 
drinking  it.  I  told  Miss  Lamb  in  whispers  that  'e 
wasn't  there,  but  I'd  'ave  another  look  for  him  by 
and  by.  If  she'd  ha'  whispered  back  it  would  ha' 
been  all  right,  but  she  wouldn't,  and,  arter  a  most 
unpleasant  scene,  she  walked  out  with  her  'ead  in 
the  air  follered  by  me  with  two  men  in  buttons 
and  a  policeman. 

"  O'  course,  nothing  would  do  but  she  must  go 
back  to  the  wharf  and  wait  for  Cap'n  Tarbell,  and 
all  the  way  there  I  was  wondering  wot  would 
'appen  if  she  went  on  board  and  found  'im  there 
with  Mrs.  Plimmer.  However,  when  we  got  there  j 
I  persuaded  'er  to  go  into  the  office  while  I  went 
aboard  to  see  if  I  could  find  out  where  he  was, 
and  three  minutes  arterwards  he  was  standing  with 
me  behind  the  galley,  trembling  all  over  and 
patting  me  on  the  back. 

" '  Keep  'er  in  the  office  a  little  longer,'  he  ses, 
in  a  whisper.  '  The  other's  going  soon.  Keep  'er 
there  as  long  as  you  can.' 

"  '  And  suppose  she  sees  you  and  Mrs.  Plimmer 
passing  the  window?'  I  ses. 

" '  That'll  be  all  right ;  Pm  going  to  take  'er 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  63 

to  the  stairs  in  the  ship's  boat,'  he  ses.  '  It's  more 
romantic' 

"  He  gave  me  a  little  punch  in  the  ribs,  playful- 
like,  and,  arter  telling  me  I  was  worth  my  weight 
in  gold-dust,  went  back  to  the  cabin  agin. 

"  I  told  Miss  Lamb  that  the  cabin  was  locked 
up,  but  that  Cap'n  Tarbell  was  expected  back  in 
about  'arf-an-hour's  time.  Then  I  found  'er  an 
old  newspaper  and  a  comfortable  chair  and  sat 
down  to  wait.  I  couldn't  go  on  the  wharf  for 
fear  she'd  want  to  come  with  me,  and  I  sat  there 
as  patient  as  I  could,  till  a  little  clicking  noise 
made  us  both  start  up  and  look  at  each  other. 

"  '  Wot's  that  ? '  she  ses,  listening. 

"  '  It  sounded,'  I  ses — '  it  sounded  like  some- 
body locking  the  door.' 

"  I  went  to  the  door  to  try  it  just  as  somebody 
dashed  past  the  window  with  their  'ead  down.  It 
was  locked  fast,  and  arter  I  had  'ad  a  try  at  it  and 
Miss  Lamb  had  'ad  a  try  at  it,  we  stood  and  looked 
at  each  other  in  surprise. 

"  '  Somebody's  playing  a  joke  on  us,'  I  ses. 

" '  Joke  ! '  ses  Miss  Lamb.  '  Open  that  door  at 
once.    If  you  don't  open  it  I'll  call  for  the  police.' 


64  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  She  looked  at  the  windows,  but  the  iron  bars 
wot  was  strong  enough  to  keep  the  vans  outside 
was  strong  enough  to  keep  'er  in,  and  then  she 
gave  way  to  such  a  fit  o'  temper  that  I  couldn't  do 
nothing  with  'er. 

"  *  Cap'n  Tarbell  can't  be  long  now,'  I  ses,  as 
soon  as  I  could  get  a  word  in.  '  We  shall  get  out 
as  soon  as  'e  comes.' 

"  She  flung  'erself  down  in  the  chair  agin  with 
'er  back  to  me,  and  for  nearly  three-quarters  of 
an  hour  we  sat  there  without  a  word.  Then,  to 
our  joy,  we  'card  footsteps  turn  in  at  the  gate. 
Quick  footsteps  they  was.  Somebody  turned  the 
handle  of  the  door,  and  then  a  face  looked  in  at 
the  window  that  made  me  nearly  jump  out  of  my 
boots  in  surprise.  A  face  that  was  as  white  as 
chalk  with  temper,  and  a  bonnet  cocked  over  one 
eye  with  walking  fast.  She  shook  'er  fist  at  me, 
and  then  she  shook  it  at  Miss  Lamb. 

"  '  Who's  that? '  ses  Miss  Lamb. 

My  missis,'  I  ses,  in  a  loud  voice.     '  Thank 
goodness  she's  come ' 

Of  en    the    door! '    ses    my    missis,    with    a 
screech.     'Open  the  Door!  ' 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  65 

"  '  I  can't,'  I  ses.  '  Somebody's  locked  it.  This 
is  Cap'n  Tarbell's  young  lady.' 

"  '  I'll  Cap'n  Tarbell  'er  when  I  get  in  !  '  ses  my 
wife.  *  You  too.  I'll  music-'all  you  !  I'll  learn 
you  to  go  gallivanting  about !     Of  en  the  door  ! ' 

"  She  walked  up  and  down  the  alley-way  in 
front  of  the  window  waiting  for  me  just  like  a  lion 
walking  up  and  down  its  cage  waiting  for  its 
dinner,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  then  and  there 
that  I  should  'ave  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  and 
let  Cap'n  Tarbell  get  out  of  it  the  best  way  he 
could.    I  wasn't  going  to  suffer  for  him. 

"  'Ow  long  my  missis  walked  up  and  down  there 
I  don't  know.  It  seemed  ages  to  me ;  but  at  last 
I  'eard  footsteps  and  voices,  and  Bob  and  the  cook 
and  the  other  two  chaps  wot  we  'ad  met  at  the 
music-'all  came  along  and  stood  grinning  in  at  the 
window. 

" '  Somebody's  locked  us  in,'  I  ses.  '  Go  and 
fetch  Cap'n  Tarbell.' 

"  *  Cap'n  Tarbell } '  ses  the  cook.  '  You  don't 
want  to  see  'im.  Why,  he's  the  last  man  in  the 
world  you  ought  to  want  to  see  !  You  don't  know 
'ow  jealous  he  is.' 


66  SHIP'S   COMPANY 


(I  I 


You  go  and  fetch  'im,'  I  ses,    '  'Ow  dare  you 
talk  like  that  afore  my  wife  !  ' 

" '  I  dursen't  take  the  responserbility,'  ses  the 
cook.    '  It  might  mean  bloodshed/ 

" '  You  go  and  fetch  'im,'  ses  my  missis. 
*  Never  mind  about  the  bloodshed.  I  don't. 
Open  the  door  ! ' 

"  She  started  banging  on  the  door  agin,  and 
arter  talking  among  themselves  for  a  time  they 
moved  off  to  the  ship.  They  came  back  in  three 
or  four  minutes,  and  the  cook  'eld  up  something 
in  front  of  the  window. 

" '  The  boy  'ad  got  it,'  he  ses.  '  Now  shall  I 
open  the  door  and  let  your  missis  in,  or  would  you 
rather  stay  where  you  are  in  peace  and  quietness  ? ' 

"  I  saw  my  missis  jump  at  the  key,  and  Bob  and 
the  others,  laughing  fit  to  split  their  sides,  'olding 
her  back.  Then  I  heard  a  shout,  and  the  next 
moment  Cap'n  Tarbell  came  up  and  asked  'em 
wot  the  trouble  was  about. 

"  They  all  started  talking  at  once.,  and  then  the 
cap'n,  arter  one  look  in  at  the  window,  threw  up 
his  'ands  and  staggered  back  as  if  'e  couldn't  be- 
lieve his  eyesight.     He  stood  dazed-like  for  a 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  67 

second  or  two,  and  then  'e  took  the  key  out  of  the 
cook's  'and,  opened  the  door,  and  walked  in.  The 
four  men  was  close  be'ind  'im,  and,  do  all  she 
could,  my  missis  couldn't  get  in  front  of  'em. 

"  '  Watchman  ! '  he  ses,  in  a  stuck-up  voice,  '  wot 
does  this  mean?  Laura  Lamb !  wot  'ave  you  got 
to  say  for  yourself?  Where  'ave  you  been  all  the 
evening  ? ' 

" '  She's  been  to  a  music-'all  with  Bill,'  ses  the 
cook.    '  We  saw  'em.' 

"'Wot?'  ses  the  cap'n,  falling  back  agin.  'It 
can't  be !  * 

" '  It  was  them,'  ses  my  wife.  '  A  little  boy 
brought  me  a  note  telling  me.  You  let  me  go; 
it's  my  husband,  and  I  want  to  talk  to  'im.' 

" '  It's  all  right,'  I  ses,  waving  my  'and  at  Miss 
Lamb,  wot  was  going  to  speak,  and  smiling  at  my 
missis,  wot  was  trying  to  get  at  me. 

"*We  went  to  look  for  you,'  ses  Miss  Lamb, 
very  quick.  '  He  said  you  were  at  the  music-'all, 
and  as  you  'adn't  got  my  letter  I  thought  it  was 
very  likely.' 

But  I  did  get  your  letter,'  ses  the  cap'n. 
He  said  you  didn't,'  ses  Miss  Lamb. 


a  i 


i(  I 


F2 


68  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  '  Look  'ere,'  I  ses.  '  Why  don't  you  keep  quiet 
and  let  me  explain?    I  can  explain  everything.' 

"  '  I'm  glad  o'  that,  for  your  sake,  my  man,'  ses 
the  cap'n,  looking  at  me  very  hard.  '  I  'ope  you 
will  be  able  to  explain  'ow  it  was  you  came  to  leave 
the  wharf  for  three  hours.'' 

"  I  saw  it  all  then.  If  I  split  about  Mrs. 
Plimmer,  he'd  split  to  the  guv'nor  about  my 
leaving  my  dooty,  and  I  should  get  the  sack.  I 
thought  I  should  ha'  choked,  and,  judging  by  the 
way  they  banged  me  on  the  back.  Bob  and  the 
cook  thought  so  too.  They  'elped  me  to  a  chair 
when  I  got  better,  and  I  sat  there  'elpless  while 
the  cap'n  went  on  talking. 

"'I'm  no  mischief-maker,'  he  ses;   'and,  be 
sides,  p'r'aps  he's  been  punished  enough.     And 
as  far  as  I'm  concerned  he  can  take  this  lady  to 
a  music-'all  every  night  of  the  week  if  'e  likes. 
I've  done  with  her.' 

"  There  was  an  eggsterrordinary  noise  from 
where  my  missis  was  standing;  like  the  gurgling 
water  makes  sometimes  running  down  the  kitchen 
sink  at  'ome  only  worse.  Then  they  all  started 
talking  together,  and  'arf-a-dozen  times  or  more 


GOOD   INTENTIONS  69 

Miss  Lamb  called  me  to  back  'er  up  in  wot  she  was 
saying,  but  I  only  shook  my  'ead,  and  at  last, 
arter  tossing  her  'ead  at  Cap'n  Tarbell  and  telling 
'im  she  wouldn't  'ave  'im  if  he'd  got  fifty  million 
a  year,  the  five  of  'em  'eld  my  missis  while  she 
went  off. 

"  They  gave  'er  ten  minutes'  start,  and  then 
Cap'n  Tarbell,  arter  looking  at  me  and  shaking 
his  'ead,  said  he  was  afraid  they  must  be  going. 

" '  And  I  'ope  this  night'U  be  a  lesson  to  you,' 
he  ses.  '  Don't  neglect  your  dooty  agin.  I  shall 
keep  my  eye  on  you,  and  if  you  be'ave  yourself 
I  sha'n't  say  anything.  Why,  for  all  you  know  or 
could  ha'  done  the  wharf  might  ha'  been  burnt  to 
the  ground  while  you  was  away  !  ' 

"  He  nodded  to  his  crew,  and  they  all  walked 
out  laughing  an  left  me  alone — with  the  missis." 


IV 

FAIRY    GOLD 

"  Come  and  have  a  pint  and  talk  it  over," 
said  Mr.  Augustus  Teak.  "  I've  got  reasons  in 
ray  'ead  that  you  don't  dream  of,  Alf." 

Mr.  Chase  grunted  and  stole  a  side-glance  at 
the  small  figure  of  his  companion.  "All  brains, 
you  are,  Gussie,"  he  remarked.  "  That's  why  it 
is  you're  so  v/ell  off." 

"  Come  and  have  a  pint,"  repeated  the  other, 
and  with  surprising  ease  pushed  his  bulky  friend 
into  the  bar  of  the  "  Ship  and  Anchor."  Mr. 
Chase,  mellowed  by  a  long  draught,  placed 
his  mug  on  the  counter  and  eyeing  him  kindly, 
said — 

"  I've  been  in  my  lodgings  thirteen  years." 

"I  know,"  said  Mr.   Teak;  "but  I've  got  a 

partikler  reason  for  wanting  you.     Our  lodger, 

Mr.  Dunn,  left  last  week,  and  I  only  thought  of 

you  yesterday.     I  mentioned  you  to  my  missis, 

70 


FAIRY   GOLD  71 

and  she  was  quite  pleased.  You  see,  she  knows 
I've  known  you  for  over  twenty  years,  and  she 
wants  to  make  sure  of  only  'aving  honest  people 
in  the  'ouse.     She  has  got  a  reason  for  it." 

He  closed  one  eye  and  nodded  with  great 
significance  at  his  friend. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Mr.  Chase,  waiting. 

"  She's  a  rich  woman,"  said  Mr.  Teak,  pulling 
the  other's  ear  down  to  his  mouth.     "  She " 

"  When  you've  done  tickling  me  with  your 
whiskers,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  withdrawing  his 
head  and  rubbing  his  ear  vigorously,  **  I  shall  be 
glad." 

Mr.  Teak  apologized.  "A  rich  woman,"  he 
repeated.  "  She's  been  stinting  me  for  twenty- 
nine  years  and  saving  the  money — my  money  ! — 
money  that  I  'ave  earned  with  the  sweat  of  my 
brow.     She  'as  got  over  three  'undred  pounds !  " 

'"Ow  much?"  demanded  Mr.  Chase. 

"  Three  'undred  pounds  and  more,"  repeated 
the  other ;  '*  and  if  she  had  'ad  the  sense  to  put 
it  in  a  bank  it  would  ha'  been  over  four  'undered 
by  this  time.  Instead  o'  that  she  keeps  it  hid  in 
the  'ouse." 


72  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Where  ? "  inquired  the  greatly  interested  Mr. 
Chase. 

Mr.  Teak  shook  his  head.  "  That's  just  what  I 
want  to  find  out,"  he  answered.  "  She  don't  know 
I  know  it;  and  she  mustn't  know,  either.  That's 
important." 

"  How  did  you  find  out  about  it,  then  ? "  in- 
quired his  friend. 

"  My  wife's  sister's  husband,  Bert  Adams,  "told 
me.  His  wife  told  'im  in  strict  confidence;  and 
I  might  'ave  gone  to  my  grave  without  knowing 
about  it,  only  she  smacked  his  face  for  'im  the 
other  night." 

"  If  it's  in  the  house  you  ought  to  be  able  to 
find  it  easy  enough,"  said  Mr.  Chase. 

"  Yes,  it's  all  very  well  to  talk,"  retorted  Mr. 
Teak.  ''  Mv  missis  never  leaves  the  'ouse  unless 
I'm  with  her,  except  when  I'm  at  work;  and  if 
she  thought  I  knew  of  it  she'd  take  and  put  it  in 
some  bank  or  somewhere  unbeknown  to  me,  and 
I  should  be  farther  off  it  than  ever." 

"  Haven't  you  got  no  idea? "  said  Mr.  Chase. 

"  Not  the  leastest  bit,"  said  the  other.  "  I  never 
thought   for  a  moment  she  was  saving   money. 


FAIRY   GOLD  73 

She's  always  asking  me  for  more,  for  one  thing; 
but,  then,  women  always  do.  And  look  'ow  bad 
it  is  for  her — saving  money  like  that  on  the  sly. 
She  might  grow  into  a  miser,  pore  thing.  For  'er 
own  sake  I  ought  to  get  hold  of  it,  if  it's  only  to 
save  her  from  'erself." 

Mr.  Chase's  face  reflected  the  gravity  of  his 
own. 

"  You're  the  only  man  I  can  trust,"  continued 
Mr.  Teak,  "  and  I  thought  if  you  came  as  lodger 
you  might  be  able  to  find  out  where  it  is  hid, 
and  get  hold  of  it  for  me." 

"Me  steal  it,  d'ye  mean?"  demanded  the 
gaping  Mr.  Chase.  "And  suppose  she  got 
me  locked  up  for  it?  I  should  look  pretty, 
shouldn't  I  ?  " 

"  No ;  you  find  out  where  it  is  hid,"  said  the 
other ;  "  that's  all  you  need  do.  I'll  find  some 
way  of  getting  hold  of  it  then." 

"  But  if  you  can't  find  it,  how  should  I  be  able 
to?  "  inquired  Mr.  Chase. 

"  'Cos  you'll  'ave  opportunities,"  said  the  other. 
"  I  take  her  out  some  time  when  you're  supposed 
to  be  out  late ;  you  come  'ome,  let  yourself  in  with 


74  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

your  key,  and  spot  the  hiding-place.  I  get  the 
cash,  and  give  you  ten — golden — sovereigns — 
all  to  your  little  self.  It  only  occurred  to  me  after 
Bert  told  me  about  it,  that  I  ain't  been  in  the 
house  alone  for  years." 

He  ordered  some  more  beer,  and,  drawing  Mr. 
Chase  to  a  bench,  sat  down  to  a  long  and  steady 
argument.  It  shook  his  faith  in  human  nature 
to  find  that  his  friend  estimated  the  affair  as  a 
twenty-pound  job,  but  he  was  in  no  position  to 
bargain.  They  came  out  smoking  twopenny  cigars 
whose  strength  was  remarkable  for  their  age,  and 
before  they  parted  Mr.  Chase  was  pledged  to  the 
hilt  to  do  all  that  he  could  to  save  Mrs.  Teak  from 
the  vice  of  avarice. 

It  was  a  more  difficult  undertaking  than  he  had 
supposed.  The  house,  small  and  compact,  seemed 
to  offer  few  opportunities  for  the  concealment  of 
large  sums  of  money,  and  after  a  fortnight's 
residence  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
treasure  must  have  been  hidden  in  the  garden. 
The  unalloyed  pleasure,  however,  with  which  Mrs. 
Teak  regarded  the  efforts  of  her  husband  to  put 
under  cultivation  land  that  had  lain  fallow  for 


FAIRY   GOLD  75 

twenty  years  convinced  both  men  that  they  were 
on  a  wrong  scent.  Mr.  Teak,  who  did  the  digging, 
was  the  first  to  realize  it,  but  his  friend,  pointing 
out  the  suspicions  that  might  be  engendered  by 
a  sudden  cessation  of  labour,  induced  him  to 
persevere. 

"  And  try  and  look  as  if  you  liked  it,"  he  said, 

severely.  "  Why,  from  the  window  even  the  back 
view  of  you  looks  disagreeable." 

"  I'm  fair  sick  of  it,"  declared  Mr.  Teak. 
"Anybody  might  ha'  known  she  wouldn't  have 
buried  it  in  the  garden.  She  must  'ave  been 
saving  for  pretty  near  thirty  years,  week  by  week, 
and  she  couldn't  keep  coming  out  here  to  hide  it. 
'Tain't  likely." 

Mr.  Chase  pondered.  "  Let  her  know,  casual 
like,  that  I  sha'n't  be  'ome  till  late  on  Saturday," 
he  said,  slowly.  "  Then  you  come  'ome  in  the 
afternoon  and  take  her  out.  As  soon  as  you're 
gone  I'll  pop  in  and  have  a  thorough  good  hunt 
round.    Is  she  fond  of  animals?  " 

"  I  b'lieve  so,"  said  the  other,  staring.  "  Why  ?  " 

*'  Take  'er  to  the  Zoo,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  im- 
pressively.   "  Take  two-penn'orth  o'  nuts  with  you 


76  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

for  the  monkeys,  and  some  stale  buns  for — for — 
for  animals  as  likes  'em.  Give  'er  a  ride  on  the 
elephant  and  a  ride  on  the  camel." 

"  Anything  else  ? "  inquired  Mr.  Teak  disagree- 
ably. "  Any  more  ways  you  can  think  of  for  me 
to  spend  my  money?" 

"  You  do  as  I  tell  you,"  said  his  friend.  "  I've 
got  an  idea  now  where  it  is.  If  I'm  able  to  show 
you  where  to  put  your  finger  on  three  'undred 
pounds  when  you  come  'ome  it'll  be  the  cheapest 
outing  you  have  ever  'ad.     Won't  it?" 

Mr.  Teak  made  no  reply,  but,  after  spending 
the  evening  in  deliberation,  issued  the  invitation 
at  the  supper-table.  His  wife's  eyes  sparkled  at 
first;  then  the  light  slowly  faded  from  them  and 
her  face  fell. 

"  I  ca7i't  go,"  she  said,  at  last.  "  I've  got 
nothing  to  go  in." 

"  Rubbish !  "  said  her  husband,  starting  un- 
easily. 

"  It's  a  fact,"  said  Mrs.  Teak.  "  I  should  like 
to  go,  too — it's  years  since  I  was  at  the  Zoo.  I 
might  make  my  jacket  do ;  it's  my  hat  I'm  thinking 
about." 


FAIRY   GOLD  77 

Mr.  Chase,  meeting  Mr.  Teak's  eye,  winked  an 
obvious  suggestion. 

"  So,  thanking  you  all  the  same,"  continued 
Mrs.  Teak,  with  amiable  cheerfulness,  "  I'll  stay 
at  home." 

"  'Ow — 'ow  much  are  they  ?  "  growled  her  hus- 
band, scowling  at  Mr.  Chase. 

"All  prices,"  replied  his  wife. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Teak,  in  a  grating 
voice.  "  You  go  in  to  buy  a  hat  at  one  and  eleven- 
pence ;  you  get  talked  over  and  flattered  by  a  man 
like  a  barber's  block,  and  you  come  out  with  a 
four-and-sixpenny  one.  The  only  real  difference 
in  hats  is  the  price,  but  women  can  never  see  it." 

Mrs.  Teak  smiled  faintly,  and  again  expressed 
her  willingness  to  stay  at  home.  They  could 
spend  the  afternoon  working  in  the  garden,  she 
said.  Her  husband,  with  another  indignant 
glance  at  the  right  eye  of  Mr.  Chase,  which  was 
still  enacting  the  part  of  a  camera-shutter,  said 
that  she  could  have  a  hat,  but  asked  her  to 
remember  when  buying  it  that  nothing  suited  her 
so  well  as  a  plain  one. 

The    remainder    of    the    week    passed    away 


78  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

slowly;  and  Mr.  Teak,  despite  his  utmost  efforts, 
was  unable  to  glean  any  information  from  Mr. 
Chase  as  to  that  gentleman's  ideas  concerning  the 
hiding-place.  At  every  suggestion  Mr.  Chase's 
smile  only  got  broader  and  more  indulgent. 

"  You  leave  it  to  me,"  he  said.  "  You  leave  it 
to  me,  and  when  you  come  home  from  a  happy 
outing  I  'ope  to  be  able  to  cross  your  little  hand 
with  three  'undred  golden  quids." 

"  But  why  not  tell  me?  "  urged  Mr.  Teak. 

"  'Cos  I  want  to  surprise  you,"  was  the  reply. 
*'  But  mind,  whatever  you  do,  don't  let  your  wife 
run  away  with  the  idea  that  I've  been  mixed  up 
in  it  at  all.  Now,  if  you  worry  me  any  more  I 
shall  ask  you  to  make  it  thirty  pounds  for  me 
instead  of  twenty." 

The  two  friends  parted  at  the  corner  of  the 
road  on  Saturday  afternoon,  and  Mr.  Teak,  con- 
scious of  his  friend's  impatience,  sought  to  hurry 
his  wife  by  occasionally  calling  the  wrong  time 
up  the  stairs.  She  came  down  at  last,  smiling,  in 
a  plain  hat  with  three  roses,  two  bows,  and  a 
feather. 

"  I've  had  the  feather  for  years,"  she  remarked. 


FAIRY   GOLD  79 

"  This  is  the  fourth  hat  it  has  been  on — but,  then, 
I've  taken  care  of  it." 

Mr.  Teak  grunted,  and,  opening  the  door, 
ushered  her  into  the  street.  A  sense  of  adventure 
and  the  hope  of  a  profitable  afternoon  made  his 
spirits  rise.  He  paid  a  compliment  to  the  hat, 
and  then,  to  the  surprise  of  both,  followed  it  up 
with  another — a  very  little  one — to  his  wife. 

They  took  a  tram  at  the  end  of  the  street,  and 
for  the  sake  of  the  air  mounted  to  the  top.  Mrs. 
Teak  leaned  back  in  her  seat  with  placid  enjoy- 
ment, and  for  the  first  ten  minutes  amused  herself 
with  the  life  in  the  streets.  Then  she  turned 
suddenly  to  her  husband  and  declared  that  she 
had  felt  a  spot  of  rain. 

" 'Magination,"  he  said,  shortly. 

Something  cold  touched  him  lightly  on  the 
eyelid,  a  tiny  pattering  sounded  from  the  seats, 
and  then — swish,  down  came  the  rain.  With  an 
angry  exclamation  he  sprang  up  and  followed  his 
wife  below. 

"  Just  our  luck,"  she  said,  mournfully.  "  Best 
thing  we  can  do  is  to  stay  in  the  car  and  go  back 
with  it." 


80  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  her  husband,  in  a  startled 
voice;  "it'll  be  over  in  a  minute." 

Events  proved  the  contrary.  By  the  time  the 
car  reached  the  terminus  it  was  coming  down 
heavily.  Mrs.  Teak  settled  herself  squarely  in 
her  seat,  and  patches  of  blue  sky,  visible  only 
to  the  eye  of  faith  and  her  husband,  failed  to 
move  her.  Even  his  reckless  reference  to  a  cab 
failed. 

"  It's  no  good,"  she  said,  tartly.  "  We  can't  go 
about  the  grounds  in  a  cab,  and  I'm  not  going  to 
slop  about  in  the  wet  to  please  anybody.  We 
must  go  another  time.  It's  hard  luck,  but  there's 
worse  things  in  life." 

Mr.  Teak,  wondering  as  to  the  operations  of 
Mr.  Chase,  agreed  dumbly.  He  stopped  the  car 
at  the  corner  of  their  road,  and,  holding  his  head 
down  against  the  rain,  sprinted  towards  home. 
Mrs.  Teak,  anxious  for  her  hat,  passed  him. 

"What  on  earth's  the  matter?"  she  inquired, 
fumbling  in  her  pocket  for  the  key  as  her  husband 
executed  a  clumsy  but  noisy  breakdown  on  the 
front  step. 

"  Chill,"  replied  Mr.  Teak.     "  I've  got  wet." 


"  WHAT  ON  earth's  THE  MATTER?"  SHE  INQUIRED,  lUMBLING 
IN  HER  POCKET  FOR  THE  KEY  AS  HER  HUSBAND  EXECUTBD 
A   CLUMSY   BUT    NOISY    BREAKDOWN   ON    THE   FRONT   STEP 


82  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

He  resumed  his  lumberings  and,  the  door  being 
opened,  gave  vent  to  his  relief  at  being  home 
again  in  the  dry,  in  a  voice  that  made  the  windows 
rattle.  Then  with  anxious  eyes  he  watched  his 
wife  pass  upstairs. 

"Wonder  what  excuse  old  Alf  '11  make  for 
being  in?'*  he  thought. 

He  stood  with  one  foot  on  the  bottom  stair, 
listening  acutely.  He  heard  a  door  open  above, 
and  then  a  wild,  ear-splitting  shriek  rang  through 
the  house.  Instinctively  he  dashed  upstairs  and, 
following  his  wife  into  their  bedroom,  stood  by 
her  side  gaping  stupidly  at  a  pair  of  legs  standing 
on  the  hearthstone.  As  he  watched  they  came 
backwards  into  the  room,  the  upper  part  of  a 
body  materialized  from  the  chimney,  and  turning 
round  revealed  the  soot-stained  face  of  Mr. 
Alfred  Chase.  Another  wild  shriek  from  Mrs. 
Teak  greeted  its  appearance. 

"  Hul-lo !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Teak,  groping  for 
the  right  thing  to  say.  "  Hul-lo  !  What — ^what 
are  you  doing,  Alf.?" 

Mr.  Chase  blew  the  soot  from  his  lips.  "  I — I 
— I  come  *ome  unexpected,"  he  stammered. 


FAIRY   GOLD  83 

"  But — what  are — you  doing  ?  "  panted  Mrs. 
Teak,  in  a  rising  voice. 

"  I — I  was  passing  your  door,"  said  Mr.  Chase, 
"passing  your  door — to  go  to  my  room  to — to 
'ave  a  bit  of  a  rinse,  when " 

"Yes?"  said  Mrs.  Teak. 

Mr,  Chase  gave  Mr.  Teak  a  glance  the  pathos 
of  which  even  the  soot  could  not  conceal.  "  When 
I — I  heard  a  pore  little  bird  struggling  in  your 
chimbley,"  he  continued,  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 
"  Being  fond  of  animals,  I  took  the  liberty  of 
comin'  into  your  room  and  saving  its  life." 

Mr.  Teak  drew  a  breath,  which  he  endeavoured 
in  vain  to  render  noiseless, 

"  It  got  its  pore  little  foot  caught  in  the  brick- 
work," continued  the  veracious  Mr.  Chase,  ten- 
derly. "  I  released  it,  and  it  flowed — I  mean  flew 
— up  the  chimbley." 

With  the  shamefaced  air  of  a  man  detected  in 
the  performance  of  a  noble  action,  he  passed  out 
of  the  room.    Husband  and  wife  eyed  each  other. 

"That's  Alf— that's  Alf  all  over,"  said  Mr. 
Teak,  with  enthusiasm.  "  He's  been  like  it  from 
a  child.     He's  the  sort  of  man  that  'ud  dive  off 


G  2 


84  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Waterloo  Bridge  to  save  the  life  of  a  drownding 
sparrow." 

"  He's  made  an  awful  mess,"  said  his  wife, 
frowning;  "it'll  take  me  the  rest  of  the  day  to 
clean  up.  There's  soot  everywhere.  The  rug  is 
quite  spoilt." 

She  took  off  her  hat  and  jacket  and  prepared 
for  the  fray.  Down  below  Messrs.  Teak  and 
Chase,  comparing  notes,  sought,  with  much 
warmth,  to  put  the  blame  on  the  right  shoulders. 

''Well,  it  ain't  there,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  finally. 
"  I've  made  sure  of  that.  That's  something 
towards  it.  I  shan't  'ave  to  look  there  again, 
thank  goodness." 

Mr.  Teak  sniffed.  "Got  any  more  ideas?"  he 
queried. 

"  I  have,"  said  the  other,  sternly.  "  There's 
plenty  of  places  to  search  yet.  I've  only  just 
begun.  Get  her  out  as  much  as  you  can  and  I'll 
'ave  my  hands  on  it  afore  you  can  say " 

"Soot?"  suggested  Mr.  Teak,  sourly. 

"Any  more  of  your  nasty  snacks  and  I  chuck 
it  up  altogether,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  heatedly.  "  If 
I  wasn't  hard  up  I'd  drop  it  now." 


FAIRY   GOLD  85 

He  went  up  to  his  room  in  dudgeon,  and  for 
the  next  few  days  Mr.  Teak  saw  but  little  of  him. 
To  lure  Mrs.  Teak  out  was  almost  as  difficult 
as  to  persuade  a  snail  to  leave  its  shell,  but 
he  succeeded  on  two  or  three  occasions,  and 
each  time  she  added  something  to  her  ward- 
robe. 

The  assistant  fortune-hunter  had  been  in  resi- 
dence just  a  month  when  Mr.  Teak,  returning 
home  one  afternoon,  stood  in  the  small  passage 
listening  to  a  suppressed  wailing  noise  proceed- 
ing from  upstairs.  It  was  so  creepy  that  half- 
way up  he  hesitated,  and,  in  a  stern  but  trembling 
voice,  demanded  to  know  what  his  wife  meant  by 
it.  A  louder  wail  than  before  was  the  only  reply, 
and,  summoning  up  his  courage,  he  pushed  open 
the  door  of  the  bedroom  and  peeped  in.  His 
gaze  fell  on  Mrs.  Teak,  who  was  sitting  on  the 
hearth-rug,  rocking  to  and  fro  in  front  of  a 
dismantled  fire-place. 

"What — what's  the  matter?"  he  said,  hastily. 

Mrs.  Teak  raised  her  voice  to  a  pitch  that  set 
his  teeth  on  edge.  "  My  money !  "  she  wailed. 
"  It's  all  gone  !     All  gone  !  '* 


86  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Money  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Teak,  hardly  able  to 
contain  himself.     "What  money?" 

"  All — all  my  savings  !  "  moaned  his  wife. 
"  Savings ! "    said    the    delighted    Mr.    Teak. 
"What  savings?" 

"  Money  I  have  been  putting  by  for  our  old 
age,"  said  his  wife.  "  Three  hundred  and  twenty- 
two  pounds.     All  gone  !  " 

In  a  fit  of  sudden  generosity  Mr.  Teak  decided 
then  and  there  that  Mr.  Chase  should  have  ihe 
odd  twenty-two  pounds. 

"  You're  dreaming  !  "  he  said,  sternly. 
"  I  wish  I  was,"  said  his  wife,  wiping  her  eyes. 
"  Three  hundred  and  twenty-two  pounds,  in 
empty  mustard-tins.  Every  ha'penny's  gone  !  " 
Mr.  Teak's  eye  fell  on  the  stove.  He  stepped 
forward  and  examined  it.  The  back  was  out,  and 
Mrs.  Teak,  calling  his  attention  to  a  tunnel  at  the 
side,  implored  him  to  put  his  arm  in  and  satisfy 
himself  that  it  was  empty. 

"  But   where   could    you   get    all    that   money 
from  ? "  he  demanded,  after  a  prolonged  groping. 
"  Sa — sa — saved  it,"  sobbed  his  wife,  "  for  our 
old  age." 


FAIRY  GOLD  87 

"  Our  old  age  ?  "  repeated  Mr.  Teak,  in  lofty 
tones.  "  And  suppose  I  had  died  first  ?  Or  sup- 
pose you  had  died  sudden?  This  is  what  comes 
of  deceitfulness  and  keeping  things  from  your 
husband.     Now  somebody  has  stole  it." 

Mrs.  Teak  bent  her  head  and  sobbed  again. 
*'  I — I  had  just  been  out  for — for  an  hour,"  she 
gasped.  "  When  I  came  back  I  fou — fou — found 
the  wash-house  window  smashed,  and " 

Sobs  choked  her  utterance.  Mr.  Teak,  lost  in 
admiration  of  Mr.  Chase's  cleverness,  stood 
regarding  her  in  silence. 

"  What — what  about  the  police  ?  "  said  his  wife 
at  last. 

"  Police  \ "  repeated  Mr.  Teak,  with  extra- 
ordinary vehemence.  "  Police !  Certainly  not. 
D'ye  think  I'm  going  to  let  it  be  known  all  round 
that  I'm  the  husband  of  a  miser?  I'd  sooner  lose 
ten  times  the  money."    • 

He  stalked  solemnly  out  of  the  room  and 
downstairs,  and,  safe  in  the  parlour,  gave  vent 
to  his  feelings  in  a  wild  but  silent  hornpipe.  He 
cannoned  against  the  table  at  last,  and,  subsiding 
into   an    easy-chair,    crammed    his    handkerchief 


88  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

to  his  mouth  and  gave  way  to  suppressed 
mirth. 

In  his  excitement  he  forgot  all  about  tea,  and 
the  bereaved  Mrs.  Teak  made  no  attempt  to  come 
downstairs  to  prepare  it.  With  his  eye  on  the 
clock  he  waited  with  what  patience  he  might  for 
the  arrival  of  Mr.  Chase.  The  usual  hour  for 
his  return  came  and  went.  Another  hour  passed ; 
and  another.  A  horrible  idea  that  Mr.  Chase  had 
been  robbed  gave  way  to  one  more  horrible  still. 
He  paced  the  room  in  dismay,  until  at  nine 
o'clock  his  wife  came  down,  and  in  a  languid 
fashion  began  to  set  the  supper-table. 

"  Alf's  very  late,"  said  Mr.  Teak,  thickly. 

*'  Is  he? "  said  his  wife,  dully. 

"Very  late,"  said  Mr.  Teak.  "I  can't 
think Ah,   there  he   is  !  " 

He  took  a  deep  breath  and  clenched  his  hands 
together.  By  the  time  Mr.  Chase  came  into  the 
room  he  was  able  to  greet  him  with  a  stealthy 
wink.  Mr.  Chase,  with  a  humorous  twist  of  his 
mouth,  winked  back. 

"We've  'ad  a  upset,"  said  Mr.  Teak,  in  warn- 
ing tones. 


FAIRY   GOLD  89 

"  Eh?"  said  the  other,  as  Mrs.  Teak  threw  her 
apron  over  her  head  and  sank  into  a  chair. 
"What  about?" 

In  bated  accents,  interrupted  at  times  by  broken 
murmurs  from  his  wife,  Mr.  Teak  informed  him 
of  the  robbery.  Mr.  Chase,  leaning  against  the 
door-post,  listened  with  open  mouth  and  dis- 
tended eyeballs.  Occasional  interjections  of  pity 
and  surprise  attested  his  interest.  The  tale 
finished,  the  gentlemen  exchanged  a  significant 
wink  and  sighed  in  unison. 

"  And  now,"  said  Mr.  Teak  an  hour  later,  after 
his  wife  had  retired,  ''where  is  it?" 

"Ah,  that's  the  question,"  said  Mr.  Chase, 
roguishly.    "  I  wonder  where  it  can  be?" 

"  I — I  hope  it's  in  a  safe  place,"  said  Mr. 
Teak,  anxiously.     "Where  'ave  you  put  it?" 

''Me?''  said  Mr.  Chase.  "Who  are  you  get- 
ting at?  I  ain't  put  it  anywhere.  You  know 
that." 

"  Don't  play  the  giddy  goat,"  said  the  other, 
testily.    "  Where've  you  hid  it?     Is  it  safe?  " 

Mr.  Chase  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and,  shak- 
ing his  head  at  him,  smiled  approvingly.   "  You're 


90  SHIP'S  COMPANY 

a  little  wonder,  that's  what  you  are,  Gussie,"  he 
remarked.  "  No  wonder  your  pore  wife  is  took 
in  so  easy." 

Mr.  Teak  sprang  up  in  a  fury.  "  Don't  play 
the  fool,"  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  Where's  the  money  ? 
I  want  it.     Now,  where've  you  put  it?  " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  with  a  chuckle.  "  Go 
on.  Don't  mind  me.  You  ought  to  be  on  the 
stage,  Gussie,  that's  where  you  ought  to  be." 

"  I'm  not  joking,"  said  Mr.  Teak,  in  a 
trembling  voice,  "  and  I  don't  want  you  to  joke 
with  me.  If  you  think  you  are  going  off  with  my 
money,  you're  mistook.  If  you  don't  tell  me  in 
two  minutes  where  it  is,  I  shall  give  you  in  charge 
for  theft." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Mr.  Chase.  He  took  a  deep 
breath.  "Oh,  really!"  he  said.  "I  wouldn't 
'ave  thought  it  of  you,  Gussie.  I  wouldn't 
'ave  thought  you'd  have  played  it  so  low  down. 
I'm  surprised  at  you." 

"  You  thought  wrong,  then,"  said  the  other. 

"  Trying  to  do  me  out  o'  my  twenty  pounds, 
that's  what  you  are,"  said  Mr.  Chase,  knitting  his 
brows.    "  But  it  won't  do,  my  boy.    I  wasn't  bom 


FAIRY   GOLD 


91 


yesterday.    Hand  it  over,  afore  I  lose  my  temper. 
Twenty  pounds  I  want  of  you,  and  I  don't  leave 


this  room  till  I  get  it." 


MR.    CHASE,   WITH   HIS   FRIEND   IN   HIS   POWERFUL    GRASP,    WAS   DOING 
HIS   BEST,   AS   HE   EXPRESSED   IT,   TO   SHAKE  THE   LIFE   OUT   OF   HIM 

Speechless  with  fury,  Mr.  Teak  struck  at  him. 
The  next  moment  the  supper-table  was  over- 
turned with   a   crash,   and   Mr.   Chase,  with  his 


92  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

friend  in  his  powerful  grasp,  was  doing  his  best, 
as  he  expressed  it,  to  shake  the  life  out  of  him.  A 
faint  scream  sounded  from  above,  steps  pattered 
on  the  stairs,  and  Mrs.  Teak,  with  a  red  shawl 
round  her  shoulders,  burst  hurriedly  into  the 
room.  Mr.  Chase  released  Mr.  Teak,  opened  his 
mouth  to  speak,  and  then,  thinking  better  of  it, 
dashed  into  the  passage,  took  his  hat  from  the 
peg,  and,  slamming  the  front  door  with  extra- 
ordinary violence,  departed. 

He  sent  round  for  his  clothes  next  day,  but  he 
did  not  see  Mr.  Teak  until  a  month  afterwards. 
His  fists  clenched  and  his  mouth  hardened,  but 
Mr.  Teak,  with  a  pathetic  smile,  held  out  his 
hand,  and  Mr.  Chase,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, took  it.  Mr.  Teak,  still  holding  his  friend's 
hand,  piloted  him  to  a  neighbouring  hostelry. 

"  It  was  my  mistake,  Alf,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
head,  "  but  it  wasn't  my  fault.  It's  a  mistake 
anybody  might  ha'  made." 

"  Have  you  found  out  who  took  it?  "  inquired 
Mr.  Chase,  regarding  him  suspiciously. 

Mr.  Teak  gulped  and  nodded.     "  I  met  Bert 


FAIRY    GOLD  93 

Adams  yesterday,"  he  said,  slowly.  *'  It  took 
three  pints  afore  he  told  me,  but  I  got  it  out  of 
'im  at  last.     My  missis  took  it  herself." 

Mr.  Chase  put  his  mug  down  with  a  bang. 
"  What  ?  "  he  gasped. 

"  The  day  after  she  found  you  with  your  head 
up  the  chimbley,"  added  Mr.  Teak,  mournfully. 
"  She's  shoved  it  away  in  some  bank  now,  and  I 
shall  never  see  a  ha'penny  of  it.  If  you  was  a 
married  man,  Alf,  you'd  understand  it  better. 
You  wouldn't  be  surprised  at  anything." 


c 


..4'      r^-i        ^^ 


i} 


V 

WATCH-DOGS 

"It's  a'most  the  only  enj'yment  I've  got  left," 
said  the  oldest  inhabitant,  taking  a  long,  slow 
draught  of  beer,  "  that  and  a  pipe  o'  baccy. 
Neither  of  'em  wants  chewing,  and  that's  a  great 
thing  when  you  ain't  got  anything  worth  speaking 
about  left  to  chew  with." 

He  put  his  mug  on  the  table  and,  ignoring  the 
stillness  of  the  summer  air,  sheltered  the  flame 
of  a  match  between  his  cupped  hands  and  con- 
veyed it  with  infinite  care  to  the  bowl  of  his  pipe. 

94 


WATCH-DOGS  95 

A  dull  but  crafty  old  eye  squinting  down  the  stem 
assured  itself  that  the  tobacco  was  well  alight 
before  the  match  was  thrown  away. 

"  As  I  was  a-saying,  kindness  to  animals  is  all 
very  well,"  he  said  to  the  wayfarer  who  sat  oppo- 
site him  in  the  shade  of  the  "Cauliflower"  elms; 
"  but  kindness  to  your  feller-creeturs  is  more.  The 
pint  wot  you  give  me  is  gone,  but  I'm  just  as 
thankful  to  you  as  if  it  wasn't." 

He  half  closed  his  eyes  and,  gazing  on  to  t^3 
fields  beyond,  fell  into  a  reverie  so  deep  that  he 
failed  to  observe  the  landlord  come  for  his  mug 
and  return  with  it  filled.  A  little  start  attested 
his  surprise,  and,  to  his  great  annoyance,  upset  a 
couple  of  tablespoonfuls  of  the  precious  liquid. 

"  Some  people  waste  all  their  kindness  on  dumb 
animals,"  he  remarked,  after  the  landlord  had 
withdrawn  from  his  offended  vision,  "  but  I  was 
never  a  believer  in  it.  I  mind  some  time  ago 
when  a  gen'lemen  from  Lunnon  wot  ad  more 
money  than  sense  offered  a  prize  for  kindness  to 
animals.  I  was  the  only  one  that  didn't  try  for 
to  win  it. 

"  Mr.  Bunnett  'is  name  was,  and  'e  come  down 
and  took  Farmer  Hall's  'ouse  for  the  summer. 


96  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Over  sixty  'e  was,  and  old  enough  to  know  better. 
He  used  to  put  saucers  of  milk  all  round  the  'ouse 
for  cats  to  drink,  and,  by  the  time  pore  Farmer 
Hall  got  back,  every  cat  for  three  miles  round  'ad 
got  in  the  habit  of  coming  round  to  the  back-door 
and  asking  for  milk  as  if  it  was  their  right. 
Farmer  Hall  poisoned  a  saucer  o'  milk  at  last, 
and  then  'ad  to  pay  five  shillings  for  a  thin  black 
cat  with  a  mangy  tail  and  one  eye  that  Bob  Pretty 
said  belonged  to  'is  children.  Farmer  Hall  said 
he'd  go  to  jail  afore  he'd  pay,  at  fust,  but  arter 
five  men  'ad  spoke  the  truth  and  said  they  'ad 
seen  Bob's  youngsters  tying  a  empty  mustard-tin 
to  its  tail  on'y  the  day  afore,  he  gave  way. 

"That  was  Bob  Pretty  all  over,  that  was;  the 
biggest  raskel  Claybury 'as  ever  had;  and  it  wasn't 
the  fust  bit  o'  money  'e  made  out  o'  Mr.  Bunnett 
coming  to  the  place. 

"  It  all  come  through  Mr.  Bunnett's  love  for 
animals.  I  never  see  a  man  so  fond  of  animals  as 
'e  was,  and  if  he  had  'ad  'is  way  Claybury  would 
'ave  been  overrun  by  'em  by  this  time.  The  day 
arter  'e  got  to  the  farm  he  couldn't  eat  'is  breakfuss 
because  of  a  pig  that  was  being  killed  in  the  yard, 


WATCH-DOGS  97 

and  it  was  no  good  pointing  out  to  'im  that  the  pig 
was  on'y  making  a  fuss  about  it  because  it  was  its 
nature  so  to  do.  He  lived  on  wegetables  and  such 
Hke,  and  the  way  'e  carried  on  one  day  over  'arf 
a  biled  caterpillar  'e  found  in  his  cabbage, 
wouldn't  be  believed.  He  wouldn't  eat  another 
mossel,  but  sat  hunting  'igh  and  low  for  the  other 

'arf. 

"  He  'adn't  been  in  Claybury  more  than  a  week 
afore  he  said  'ow  surprised  'e  was  to  see  'ow  pore 
dumb  animals  was  treated.  He  made  a  little 
speech  about  it  one  evening  up  at  the  schoolroom, 
and,  arter  he  'ad  finished,  he  up  and  offered  to 
give  a  prize  of  a  gold  watch  that  used  to  belong 
to  'is  dear  sister  wot  loved  animals,  to  the  one  wot 
was  the  kindest  to  'em  afore  he  left  the  place. 

"If  he'd  ha'  known  Claybury  men  better  'e 
wouldn't  ha'  done  it.  The  very  next  morning  Bill 
Chambers  took  'is  baby's  milk  for  the  cat,  and 
smacked  'is  wife's  'ead  for  talking  arter  he'd  told 
'er  to  stop.  Henery  Walker  got  into  trouble  for 
leaning  over  Charlie  Stubbs's  fence  and  feeding 
his  chickens  for  'im,  and  Sam  Jones's  wife  had  to 
run  off  'ome  to  'er  mother  'arf-dressed  because  she 

H 


98  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

had  'appened  to  overlay  a  sick  rabbit  wot  Sam  'ad 
taken  to  bed  with  'im  to  keep  warm. 

"  People  used  to  stop  animals  in  the  road  and 
try  and  do  'em  a  kindness — especially  when  Mr. 
Bunnett  was  passing — and  Peter  Gubbins  walked 
past  'is  house  one  day  with  ole  Mrs.  Broad's  cat  in 
'is  arms.  A  bad-tempered  old  cat  it  was,  and,  wot 
with  Peter  kissing  the  top  of  its  'ead  and  calHng 
of  it  Tiddleums,  it  nearly  went  out  of  its  mind. 

"  The  fust  time  Mr.  Bunnett  see  Bob  Pretty  was 
about  a  week  arter  he'd  offered  that  gold  watch. 
Bob  was  stooping  down  very  careful  over  some- 
thing in  the  hedge,  and  Mr.  Bunnett,  going  up 
quiet-like  behind  'im,  see  'i  n  messing  about  with 
a  pore  old  toad  he  'ad  found,  with  a  smashed 
leg. 

"  '.Wot's  the  matter  with  it.? '  ses  Mr.  Bunnett. 

"  Bob  didn't  seem  to  hear  'im.  He  was  a- 
kneeling  on  the  ground  with  'is  'ead  on  one  side 
looking  at  the  toad ;  and  by  and  by  he  pulled  out 
'is  pocket-'an'kercher  and  put  the  toad  in  it,  as  if  it 
was  made  of  egg-shells,  and  walked  away. 

" '  Wot's  the  matter  with  it  ? '  ses  Mr.  Bunnett, 
a'most  trotting  to  keep  up  with  'im. 


WATCH-DOGS  99 

" '  Got  it's  leg  'urt  in  some  way,  pore  thing,'  ses 
Bob.  '  I  want  to  get  it  'ome  as  soon  as  I  can  and 
wash  it  and  put  it  on  a  piece  o'  damp  moss.  But 
I'm  afraid  it's  not  long  for  this  world.' 

"  Mr.  Bunnett  said  it  did  'im  credit,  and  walked 
home  alongside  of  'im  talking.  He  was  surprised 
to  find  that  Bob  hadn't  'eard  anything  of  the  gold 
watch  'e  was  offering,  but  Bob  said  he  was  a  busy, 
'ard-working  man  and  didn't  'ave  no  time  to  go  to 
hear  speeches  or  listen  to  tittle-tattle. 

" '  When  I've  done  my  day's  work,'  he  ses,  '  I 
can  always  find  a  job  in  the  garden,  and  arter  that 
I  go  in  and  'elp  my  missis  put  the  children  to  bed. 
She  ain't  strong,  pore  thing,  and  it's  better  than 
wasting  time  and  money  up  at  the  "  Cauliflower." ' 

"  He  'ad  a  lot  o'  talk  with  Mr.  Bunnett  for  the 
next  day  or  two,  and  when  'e  went  round  with  the 
toad  on  the  third  day  as  lively  and  well  as  possible 
the  old  gen'leman  said  it  was  a  miracle.  And  so  it 
would  ha'  been  if  it  had  been  the  same  toad. 

"  He  took  a  great  fancy  to  Bob  Pretty,  and 
somehow  or  other  they  was  always  dropping  acrost 
each  other.  He  met  Bob  with  'is  dog  one  day — a 
large,  ugly  brute,  but  a'most  as  clever  as  wot  Bob 

H  2 


100  SKIPS    COAIP-\XY 

was  'imself .  It  stood  there  with  its  tongue  'an^ng 
out  and  looking  at  Bob  uneasy-like  out  of  the 
comer  of  its  eye  as  Bob  stood  a-patting  of  it  and 
calling  it  pet  names. 

**' '  Wunnerf ul  affectionate  old  dog,  ain't  you, 
Joseph?*  ses  Bob. 

" '  He's  got  a  kind  eye,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett. 

'' '  He's  like  another  child  to  me,  ain't  you,  my 
prett}- ? '  ses  Bob,  smiling  at  'im  and  feeling  in  'is 
T>ocket.    *  Here  you  are,  old  chap.' 

*■  He  threw  down  a  biskit  so  sudden  that  Joseph, 
thinking  it  was  a  stone,  went  off  like  a  streak  o' 
lightning  with  is  tail  between  'is  legs  and  yelping 
his  'ardest.  Most  men  would  ha'  looked  a  bit 
foolish,  but  Bob  Pretty  didn't  turn  a  hair. 

"  *  Ain't  it  wunnerf  ul  the  sense  they've  £:ot,'  he 
ses  to  Mr.  Bunnett,  wot  was  still  staring  arter  the 
dog. 

*'* '  Sense  ? '  ses  the  old  gen'leman. 

*" '  Yes,'  ses  Bob,  smiling.  '  His  food  ain't  been 
agreeing  with  'im  lately  and  he's  star\ing  hisself 
for  a  bit  to  get  round  agin,  and  'e  knew  that  'e 
couldn't  trust  hisself  alongside  o'  this  biskit.  Wot  a 
pit)-  men  ain't  like  that  with  beer.    I  wish  as  'ow 


WATCH-DOGS  101 

Bill  Chambers  and  Henery  Walker  and  a  few 
more  'ad  been  'ere  just  now/ 

"  Mr.  Bennett  agreed  with  'im,  and  said  vrot  a 
pity  it  was  even-body  'adn't  got  Bob  Pretty's 
common-sense  and  good  feeling. 

" '  It  ain't  that,'  ses  Bob,  shaking;  his  'ead  at 
him ;  '  it  ain't  to  mv  credit.  I  dessav  if  Sam  Jones 
and  Peter  Gubbins,  and  Charlie  Stubbs  and  Dicky 
Weed  'ad  been  brought  up  the  same  as  I  was 
they'd  'ave  been  a  lot  better  than  wot  I  am." 

"  He  bid  Mr.  Bunnett  g-ood-bve  becos  'e  said 
he'd  got  to  get  back  to  'is  work,  and  Mr.  Bunnett 
had  'ardly  got  'ome  afore  Henen-  W'alker  turned 
up  full  of  anxiousness  to  ask  his  advice  about  hve 
little  baby  kittens  wot  'is  old  cat  had  found  in  the 
wash-place  the  night  afore. 

"  '  Drownd  them  little  innercent  things,  same  as 
most  would  do,  I  can't,'  he  ses,  shaking  his  'ead; 
'  but  wot  to  do  with  'em  I  don't  know.' 

"'Couldn't  you  find  'omes  for  'em?'  ses  Mr. 
Bunnett. 

"  Henery  Walker  shook  his  'ead  agin.  '  'Tain't 
no  use  thinking  o'  that,'  he  ses.  '  There's  more 
cats  than  'omes  about  'ere.    \\liv.  Bill  Chambers 


102  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

drownded  six  on'y  last  week  right  afore  the  eyes 
of  my  pore  little  boy.    Upset  'im  dreadful  it  did.' 

"  Mr.  Bunnett  walked  up  and  down  the  room 
thinking.  '  We  must  try  and  find  'omes  for  'em 
when  they  are  old  enough,'  he  says  at  last;  'I'll 
go  round  myself  and  see  wot  /  can  do  for  you.' 

"  Henery  Walker  thanked  'im  and  went  off  'ome 
doing  a  bit  o'  thinking;  and  well  he  'ad  reason  to. 
Everybody  wanted  one  o'  them  kittens.  Peter 
Gubbins  offered  for  to  take  two,  and  Mr.  Bunnett 
told  Henery  Walker  next  day  that  'e  could  ha' 
found  'omes  for  'em  ten  times  over. 

" '  You've  no  idea  wot  fine,  kind-'arted  people 
they  are  in  this  village  when  their  'arts  are 
touched,'  he  ses,  smiling  at  Henery.  *  You  ought 
to  'ave  seen  Mr.  Jones's  smile  when  I  asked  'im 
to  take  one.  It  did  me  good  to  see  it.  And  I 
spoke  to  Mr.  Chambers  about  drowning  'is  kittens, 
and  he  told  me  'e  hadn't  slept  a  wink  ever  since. 
And  he  offered  to  take  your  old  cat  to  make  up 
for  it,  if  you  was  tired  of  keeping  it.' 

"  It  was  very  'ard  on  Henery  Walker,  I  must 
say  that.  Other  people  was  getting  the  credit  of 
bringing  up  'is  kittens,  and  more  than  that,  they 


WATCH-DOGS  103 

used  to  ask  Mr.  Bunnett  into  their  places  to  see 
'ow  the  little  dears  was  a-getting  on. 

"  Kindness  to  animals  caused  more  unpleasant- 
ness in  Claybury  than  anything  'ad  ever  done 
afore.  There  was  hardly  a  man  as  'ud  speak  civil 
to  each  other,  and  the  wimmen  was  a'most  as  bad. 
Cats  and  dogs  and  such-like  began  to  act  as  if  the 
place  belonged  to  'em,  and  seven  people  stopped 
Mr.  Bunnett  one  day  to  tell  'im  that  Joe  Parsons 
'ad  been  putting  down  rat-poison  and  killed  five 
little  baby  rats  and  their  mother. 

"  It  was  some  time  afore  anybody  knew  that 
Bob  Pretty  'ad  got  'is  eye  on  that  gold  watch,  and 
when  they  did  they  could  'ardly  believe  it.  They 
give  Bob  credit  for  too  much  sense  to  waste  time 
over  wot  they  knew  'e  couldn't  get,  but  arter  they 
'ad  heard  one  or  two  things  they  got  alarmed,  and 
pretty  near  the  whole  village  went  up  to  see  Mr. 
Bunnett  and  tell  'im  about  Bob's  true  character. 
Mr.  Bunnett  couldn't  believe  'em  at  fust,  but  arter 
they  'ad  told  'im  of  Bob's  poaching  and  the  artful 
ways  and  tricks  he  'ad  of  getting  money  as  didn't 
belong  to  'im,  'e  began  to  think  different.  He 
spoke  to  parson  about  'im,  and  arter  that  'e  said 


104  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

he  never  wanted  for  to  see  Bob  Pretty's  face 
again. 

"  There  was  a  fine  to-do  about  it  up  at  this  'ere 
*  Cauliflower '  public-'ouse  that  night,  and  the 
quietest  man  o'  the  whole  lot  was  Bob  Pretty.  He 
sat  still  all  the  time  drinking  'is  beer  and  smiling 
at  'em  and  giving  'em  good  advice  'ow  to  get 
that  gold  watch. 

" '  It's  no  good  to  me,'  he  ses,  shaking  his 
'ead.  '  I'm  a  pore  labourin'  man,  and  I  know  my 
place.' 

"  *  'Ow  you  could  ever  'ave  thought  you  'ad  a 
chance,  Bob,  /  don't  know,'  ses  Henery  Walker. 

"  "Ow's  the  toad,  Bob.-^'  ses  Bill  Chambers; 
and  then  they  all  laughed. 

" '  Laugh  away,  mates,'  ses  Bob ;  '  I  know  you 
don't  mean  it.  The  on'y  thing  I'm  sorry  for  is  you 
can't  all  'ave  the  gold  watch,  and  I'm  sure  you've 
worked  'ard  enough  for  it;  keeping  Henery 
Walker's  kittens  for  'im  and  hanging  round 
Mr.  Bunnett's.' 

*' '  We've  all  got  a  better  chance  than  wot  you 
'ave,  Bob,'  ses  little  Dicky  Weed  the  tailor. 
Ah,    that's   your   iggernerance,    Dicky,'    ses 


WATCH-DOGS 


105 


Bob.    *  Come  to  think  it  over  quiet  like,  I'm  afraid 
I  shall  win  it  arter  all.    Cos  why?    Cos  I  deserves 

it.* 

"  They  all  laughed  agin,  and  Bill   Chambers 


"the  quietest  man  o'  the  whole  lot  was  bob  pretty" 

laughed  so  'arty  that  'e  joggled  Peter  Gubbins's 
arm  and  upset  'is  beer. 

Laugh  away,'  ses  Bob,  pretending  to  get 
savage.  '  Them  that  laughs  best  laughs  last, 
mind.  I'll  'ave  that  watch  now,  just  to  spite  you 
all.' 


106  SHIP'S    COMPANY 


(C   (  }/ 


'Ow  are  you  going  to  get  it,  Bob  ? '  ses  Sam 
Jones,  jeering. 

"  '  Never  you  mind,  mate,'  ses  Bob,  stamping  'is 
foot;  '  I'm  going  to  win  it  fair.  I'm  going  to  'ave 
it  for  kindness  to  pore  dumb  animals.' 

"  '  'Ear  !  'ear  ! '  ses  Dicky  Weed,  winking  at  the 
others.    '  Will  you  'ave  a  bet  on  it.  Bob? ' 

"  '  No,'  ses  Bob  Pretty ;  '  I  don't  want  to  win  no 
man's  money.  I  like  to  earn  my  money  in  the 
sweat  o'  my  brow.' 

" '  But  you  won't  win  it.  Bob,'  ses  Dicky, 
grinning.  '  Look  'ere  !  I'll  lay  you  a  level  bob 
you  don't  get  it.' 

"  Bob  shook  his  'ead,  and  started  talking  to  Bill 
Chambers  about  something  else. 

" '  I'll  bet  you  two  bob  to  one.  Bob,'  ses  Dicky. 
'  Well,  three  to  one,  then.' 

"  Bob  sat  up  and  looked  at  'im  for  a  long  time, 
considering,  and  at  last  he  ses,  '  All  right,'  he  ses, 
'  if  Smith  the  landlord  will  mind  the  money  I 
will.' 

"  He  'anded  over  his  shillin',  but  very  slow- 
like,  and  Dicky  Weed  'anded  over  'is  money. 
Arter  that  Bob  sat  looking  disagreeable  like,  espe- 


WATCH-DOGS  107 

daily  when  Dicky  said  wot  'e  was  goin'  to  do 
with  the  money,  and  by  an  by  Sam  Jones  dared 
'im  to  'ave  the  same  bet  with  'im  in  sixpences. 

"  Bob  Pretty  'ad  a  pint  more  beer  to  think  it 
over,  and  arter  Bill  Chambers  'ad  stood  'im  an- 
other, he  said  'e  would.  He  seemed  a  bit  dazed 
like,  and  by  the  time  he  went  'ome  he  'ad  made 
bets  with  thirteen  of  'em.  Being  Saturday  night 
they  'ad  all  got  money  on  'em,  and,  as  for  Bob,  he 
always  'ad  some.  Smith  took  care  of  the  money 
and  wrote  it  all  up  on  a  slate. 

*' '  Why  don't  you  'ave  a  bit  on,  Mr.  Smith  ? '  ses 
Dicky. 

"  '  Oh,  I  dunno,'  ses  Smith,  wiping  down  the  bar 
with  a  wet  cloth. 

"  '  It's  the  chance  of  a  lifetime,'  ses  Dicky. 

"  '  Looks  like  it,'  ses  Smith,  coughing. 

" '  But  'e  can't  win,'  ses  Sam  Jones,  looking  a 
bit  upset.  '  Why,  Mr.  Bunnett  said  'e  ought  to  be 
locked  up.' 

"  '  He's  been  led  away,'  ses  Bob  Pretty,  shaking 
his  'ead.  '  He's  a  kind-'arted  old  gen'leman  when 
'e's  left  alone,  and  he'll  soon  see  wot  a  mis- 
take 'e's  made  about  me.     I'll  show  'im.     But  I 


108  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

wish  it  was  something  more  useful  than  a  gold 
watch.' 

"  '  You  ain't  got  it  yet,'  ses  Bill  Chambers. 

"  '  No,  mate,'  ses  Bob. 

And  you  stand  to  lose  a  sight  o'  money,'  ses 
Sam  Jones.  '  If  you  like,  Bob  Pretty,  you  can 
'ave  your  bet  back  with  me.' 

"  '  Never  mind,  Sam,'  ses  Bob ;  '  I  won't  take  no 
advantage  of  you.  If  I  lose  you'll  'ave  sixpence 
to  buy  a  rabbit-hutch  with.  Good-night,  mates 
all.' 

"  He  rumpled  Bill  Chambers's  'air  for  'im  as  he 
passed — a  thing  Bill  never  can  abear — and  gave 
Henery  Walker,  wot  was  drinking  beer,  a  smack 
on  the  back  wot  nearly  ruined  'im  for  life. 

"  Some  of  'em  went  and  told  Mr.  Bunnett  some 
more  things  about  Bob  next  day,  but  they  might 
as  well  ha'  saved  their  breath.  The  old  gen'leman 
said  he  knew  all  about  'im  and  he  never  wanted  to 
'ear  his  name  mentioned  agin.  Arter  which  they 
began  for  to  'ave  a  more  cheerful  way  of  looking 
at  things;  and  Sam  Jones  said  'e  was  going  to  'ave 
a  hole  bored  through  'is  sixpence  and  wear  it 
round  'is  neck  to  aggravate  Bob  Pretty  with. 


WATCH-DOGS 


109 


"  For  the  next  three  or  four  weeks  Bob  Pretty 
seemed  to  keep  very  quiet,  and  we  all  began  to 
think  as  'ow  he  'ad  made  a  mistake  for  once. 


"  SOME   OF   'em   went  AND  TOLD   MR.    BUNNETT   SOME   MORE 
THINGS  ABOUT   BOB   NEXT    DAY  " 

Everybody  else  was  trying  their  'ardest  for  the 
watch,  and  all  Bob  done  was  to  make  a  laugh  of 
'em  and  to  say  he  believed  it  was  on'y  made  of 
brass  arter  all.  Then  one  arternoon,  just  a  few 
days  afore  Mr.  Bunnett's  time  was  up  at  the  farm, 


110  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Bob  took  'is  dog  out  for  a  walk,  and  arter  watching 
the  farm  for  some  time  met  the  old  gen'leman  by 
accident  up  at  Coe's  plantation. 

Good  arternoon,  sir,'  he  ses,  smiling  at  'im. 
'  Wot  wunnerful  fine  weather  we're  a-having  for 
the  time  o'  year.  I've  just  brought  Joseph  out  for 
a  bit  of  a  walk.  He  ain't  been  wot  I  might  call 
hisself  for  the  last  day  or  two,  and  I  thought  a 
little  fresh  air  might  do  'im  good.' 

"Mr.  Bunnett  just  looked  at  him,  and  then  'e 
passed  'im  by  without  a  word. 

" '  I  wanted  to  ask  your  advice  about  'im,' 
ses  Bob,  turning  round  and  follering  of  'im. 
'  He's  a  delikit  animal,  and  sometimes  I  wonder 
whether  I  'aven't  been  a-pampering  of  'im  too 
much.' 

" '  Go  away,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett;  '  I've  'card  all 
about  you.    Go  away  at  once.' 

'"  Heard  all  about  me.'*'  ses  Bob  Pretty,  look- 
ing puzzled.  'Well,  you  can't  'ave  heard  no 
'arm,  that's  one  comfort.' 

" '  I've  been  told  your  true  character,'  ses  the 
old  gen'leman,  very  firm.  '  And  I'm  ashamed  that 
I  should  have  let  myself  be  deceived  by  you.    I 


WATCH-DOGS  111 

hope  you'll  try  and  do  better  while  there  is  still 
time.' 

" '  If  anybody  'as  got  anything  to  say  agin  my 
character,'  says  Bob,  '  I  wish  as  they'd  say  it  to 
my  face.  I'm  a  pore,  hard-working  man,  and  my 
character's  all  I've  got.' 

" '  You're  poorer  than  you  thought  you  was 
then,'  says  Mr.  Bunnett.  '  I  wish  you  good  arter- 
noon.' 

" '  Good  arternoon,  sir,'  ses  Bob,  very  humble. 
*  I'm  afraid  some  on  'em  'ave  been  telling  lies 
about  me,  and  I  didn't  think  I'd  got  a  enemy  in 
the  world.  Come  on,  Joseph.  Come  on,  old  pal. 
We  ain't  wanted  here.' 

"  He  shook  'is  'ead  with  sorrow,  and  made  a 
little  sucking  noise  between  'is  teeth,  and  afore 
you  could  wink,  his  dog  'ad  laid  hold  of  the  old 
gen'leman's  leg  and  kep'  quiet  waiting  orders. 

"  '  Help  ! '  screams  Mr.  Bunnett.  '  Call  'im 
off!    Call'imoff!' 

"  Bob  said  arterwards  that  'e  w^as  foolish  enough 
to  lose  'is  presence  o'  mind  for  a  moment,  and 
instead  o'  doing  anything  he  stood  there  gaping 
with  'is  mouth  open. 


112  SHIP'S   COMPANY 


(S  i 


Call  'im  ojEf !  '  screams  Mr.  Bunnett,  trying^ 
to  push  the  dog  away.  '  Why  don't  you  call  him 
off?' 

" '  Don't  move,'  ses  Bob  Pretty  in  a  frightened 
voice.    '  Don't  move,  wotever  you  do.' 

Call  him  off !  Take  'im  away ! '  ses  Mr. 
Bunnett. 

"  '  Why  Joseph  !  Joseph  !  Wotever  are  you  a- 
thinking  of  ? '  ses  Bob,  shaking  'is  'ead  at  the  dog. 
'  I'm  surprised  at  you !  Don't  you  know  Mr. 
Bunnett  wot  is  so  fond  of  animals?' 

" '  If  you  don't  call  'im  off,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett, 
trembling  all  over,  '  I'll  have  you  locked  up.' 

" '  I  am  a-calling  'im  off,'  ses  Bob,  looking  very 
puzzled.  '  Didn't  you  'ear  me  ?  It's  you  making 
that  noise  that  excites  'im,  I  think.  P'r'aps  if  you 
keep  quiet  he'll  leave  go.  Come  off,  Joseph, 
old  boy,  there's  a  good  doggie.  That  ain't  a 
bone.' 

" '  It's  no  good  talking  to  'im  like  that,'  ses  Mr. 
Bunnett,  keeping  quiet  but  trembling  worse  than 
ever.     '  Make  him  let  go.' 

'"I  don't  want  to  'urt  his  feelings,'  ses  Bob; 
'  they've  got  their  feelings  the  same  as  wot  we 


WATCH-DOGS  113 

'ave.     Besides,  p'r'aps  it  ain't  'is  fault — p'r'aps 
he's  gone  mad.' 

"  '  Help  !  '  ses  the  old  gen'leman,  in  a  voice  that 
might  ha'  been  heard  a  mile  away.     '  Help  ! ' 

" '  Why  don't  you  keep  quiet  ? '  ses  Bob. 
'  You're  on'y  frightening  the  pore  animal  and 
making  things  worse.  Joseph,  leave  go  and  I'll 
see  whether  there's  a  biskit  in  my  pocket.  Why 
don't  you  leave  go  ?  ' 

"'Pull  him  ojff.  Hit  'im,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett, 
shouting. 

"  '  Wot  f '  ses  Bob  Pretty,  with  a  start.  '  Hit  a 
pore,  dumb  animal  wot  don't  know  no  better ! 
Why,  you'd  never  forgive  me,  sir,  and  I  should 
lose  the  gold  watch  besides.' 

" '  No,  you  won't,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett,  speaking 
very  fast.  '  You'll  'ave  as  much  chance  of  it  as 
ever  you  had.    Hit  'im  !     Quick  ! ' 

"  '  It  'ud  break  my  'art,'  ses  Bob.  '  He'd  never 
forgive  me;  but  if  you'll  take  the  responserbility, 
and  then  go  straight  'ome  and  give  me  the  gold 
watch  now  for  kindness  to  animals,  I  will.' 

"  He  shook  his  'ead  with  sorrow  and  made  that 
sucking  noise  agin. 


114  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  '  All  right,  you  shall  'ave  it,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett, 
shouting.    '  You  shall  'ave  it.' 

"  '  For  kindness  to  animals  ? '  ses  Bob.  '  Honour 
bright  ? ' 

*' '  Yes,'  ses  Mr.  Bunnett. 

"  Bob  Pretty  lifted  'is  foot  and  caught  Joseph 
one  behind  that  surprised  'im.  Then  he  'elped 
Mr.  Bunnett  look  at  'is  leg,  and  arter  pointing  out 
that  the  skin  wasn't  hardly  broken,  and  saying  that 
Joseph  'ad  got  the  best  mouth  of  any  dog  in  Clay- 
bury,  'e  walked  'ome  with  the  old  gen'leman  and 
got  the  watch.  He  said  Mr.  Bunnett  made  a  little 
speech  when  'e  gave  it  to  'im  wot  he  couldn't 
remember,  and  wot  he  wouldn't  repeat  if  'e  could. 

"  He  came  up  to  this  'ere  '  Cauliflower'  public- 
'ouse  the  same  night  for  the  money  'e  had  won, 
and  Bill  Chambers  made  another  speech,  but,  as 
Smith  the  landlord  put  'im  outside  for  it,  it  didn't 
do  Bob  Pretty  the  good  it  ought  to  ha'  done." 


VI 


THE    BEQUEST 

Mr.  Robert  Clarkson  sat  by  his  fire,  smoking 
thoughtfully.  His  lifelong  neighbour  and  suc- 
cessful rival  in  love  had  passed  away  a  few 
days  before,  and  Mr.  Clarkson,  fresh  from  the 
obsequies,  sat  musing  on  the  fragility  of  man 
and  the  inconvenience  that  sometimes  attended 
his  departure. 

His  meditations  were  disturbed  by  a  low  knock- 
ing on  the  front  door,  which  opened  on  to  the 
street.  In  response  to  his  invitation  it  opened 
slowly,  and  a  small  middle-aged  man  of  doleful 


I   2 


115 


116  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

aspect  entered  softly  and  closed  it  behind 
him. 

"  Evening,  Bob,"  he  said,  in  stricken  accents. 
"  I  thought  I'd  just  step  round  to  see  how  you 
was  bearing  up.  Fancy  pore  old  Phipps  !  Why, 
I'd  a'most  as  soon  it  had  been  me.    A'most." 

Mr.  Clarkson  nodded. 

"  Here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow,"  continued 
Mr.  Smithson,  taking  a  seat.  "  Well,  well !  So 
you'll  have  her  at  last — pore  thing." 

"  That  was  his  wish,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson,  in  a 
dull  voice. 

"And  very  generous  of  him  too,"  said  Mr. 
Smithson.  "  Everybody  is  saying  so.  Certainly 
he  couldn't  take  her  away  with  him.  How  long 
is  it  since  you  was  both  of  you  courting  her?" 

"  Thirty  years  come  June,"  replied  the  other. 

"  Shows  what  waiting  does,  and  patience," 
commented  Mr.  Smithson.  "  If  you'd  been  like 
some  chaps  and  gone  abroad,  where  would  you 
have  been  now?  Where  would  have  been  the 
reward  of  your  faithful  heart?" 

Mr.  Clarkson,  whose  pipe  had  gone  out,  took  a 
coal  from  the  fire  and  lit  it  again. 


THE  BEQUEST  117 

"  I  can't  understand  him  dying  at  his  age,"  he 
said,  darkly.  "  He  ought  to  have  lived  to  ninety 
if  he'd  been  take  care  of." 

"Well,  he's  gone,  pore  chap,"  said  his  friend. 
"What  a  blessing  it  must  ha'  been  to  him  in  his 
last  moments  to  think  that  he  had  made  provision 
for  his  wife." 

"  Provision  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Clarkson.  "  Why, 
he's  left  her  nothing  but  the  furniture  and  fifty 
pounds  insurance  money — nothing  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Smithson  fidgeted.  "  I  mean  you,"  he 
said,  staring. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  other.  "  Oh,  yes— yes,  of 
course." 

"And  he  doesn't  want  you  to  eat  your  heart 
out  in  waiting,"  said  Mr.  Smithson.  " '  Never 
mind  about  me,'  he  said  to  her;  '  you  go  and  make 
Bob  happy.'  Wonderful  pretty  girl  she  used  to 
be,  didn't  she  ?  " 

Mr.  Clarkson  assented. 

"And  I've  no  doubt  she  looks  the  same  to  you 
as  ever  she  did,"  pursued  the  sentimental  Mr. 
Smithson.    "  That's  the  extraordinary  part  of  it." 

Mr.  Clarkson  turned  and  eyed  him;  removed 


118  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

the  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and,  after  hesitating  a 
moment,  replaced  it  with  a  jerk. 

"  She  says  she'd  rather  be  faithful  to  his 
memory,"  continued  the  persevering  Mr.  Smith- 
son,  "  but  his  wishes  are  her  law.  She  said  so  to 
my  missis  only  yesterday." 

"  Still,  she  ought  to  be  considered,"  said  Mr. 
Clarkson,  shaking  his  head.  "  I  think  that  some- 
body ought  to  put  it  to  her.  She  has  got  her  feel- 
ings, poor  thing,  and,  if  she  would  rather  not 
marry  again,  she  oughtn't  to  be  compelled  to." 

"  Just  what  my  missis  did  say  to  her,"  said  the 
other;  "but  she  didn't  pay  much  attention.  She 
said  it  was  Henry's  wish  and  she  didn't  care 
what  happened  to  her  now  he's  gone.  Besides, 
if  you  come  to  think  of  it,  what  else  is  she  to 
do?  Don't  you  worry,  Bob;  you  won't  lose  her 
again." 

Mr.  Clarkson,  staring  at  the  fire,  mused  darkly. 
For  thirty  years  he  had  played  the  congenial  part 
of  the  disappointed  admirer  but  faithful  friend. 
He  had  intended  to  play  it  for  at  least  fifty  or 
sixty.  He  wished  that  he  had  had  the  strength 
of  mind  to  refuse  the  bequest  when  the  late  Mr. 


THE   BEQUEST  119 

Phipps  first  mentioned  it,  or  taken  a  firmer  line 
over  the  congratulations  of  his  friends.  As  it  was, 
Little  Molton  quite  understood  that  after  thirty 
years'  waiting  the  faithful  heart  was  to  be 
rewarded  at  last.  Public  opinion  seemed  to  be 
that  the  late  Mr.  Phipps  had  behaved  with  extra- 
ordinary generosity. 

"  It's  rather  late  in  life  for  me  to  begin,"  said 
Mr.  Clarkson  at  last. 

"  Better  late  than  never,"  said  the  cheerful 
Mr.  Smithson. 

"  And  something  seems  to  tell  me  that  I  ain't 
long  for  this  world,"  continued  Mr.  Clarkson, 
eyeing  him  with  some  disfavour. 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense,"  said  Mr.  Smithson. 
"  You'll  lose  all  them  ideas  as  soon  as  you're 
married.  You'll  have  somebody  to  look  after  you 
and  help  you  spend  your  money." 

Mr.  Clarkson  emitted  a  dismal  groan,  and 
clapping  his  hand  over  his  mouth  strove  to  make 
it  pass  muster  as  a  yawn.  It  was  evident  that  the 
malicious  Mr.  Smithson  was  deriving  consider- 
able pleasure  from  his  discomfiture — the  pleasure 
natural  to  the  father  of  seven  over  the  troubles 


120  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

of  a  comfortable  bachelor.  Mr.  Clarkson, 
anxious  to  share  his  troubles  with  somebody, 
came  to  a  sudden  and  malicious  determination  to 
share  them  with  Mr.  Smithson. 

"  I  don't  want  anybody  to  help  me  spend  my 
money,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  First  and  last  I've 
saved  a  tidy  bit.  I've  got  this  house,  those  three 
cottages  in  Turner's  Lane,  and  pretty  near  six 
hundred  pounds  in  the  bank." 

Mr.  Smithson's  eyes  glistened. 

"  I  had  thought — it  had  occurred  to  me,"  said 
Mr.  Clarkson,  trying  to  keep  as  near  the  truth 
as  possible,  "to  leave  my  property  to  a  friend 
o'  mine — a  hard-working  man  with  a  large  family. 
However,  it's  no  use  talking  about  that  now.  It's 
too  late." 

"  Who — who  was  it  ?  "  inquired  his  friend,  try- 
ing to  keep  his  voice  steady. 

Mr.  Clarkson  shook  his  head.  "  It's  no  good 
talking  about  that  now,  George,"  he  said,  eyeing 
him  with  sly  enjoyment.  "  I  shall  have  to  leave 
everything  to  my  wife  now.  After  all,  perhaps 
it  does  more  harm  than  good  to  leave  money  to 
people." 


THE   BEQUEST  121 

*'  Rubbish ! "  said  Mr.  Smithson,  sharply. 
"  Who  was  it  ?  " 

"  You,  George,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson,  softly. 

"Me?"  said  the  other,  with  a  gasp.  ''Me?" 
He  jumped  up  from  his  chair,  and,  seizing  the 
other's  hand,  shook  it  fervently. 

"  I  oughtn't  to  have  told  you,  George,"  said 
Mr.  Clarkson,  with  great  satisfaction.  "  It'll  only 
make  you  miserable.  It's  just  one  o'  the  might 
ha'  beens." 

Mr.  Smithson,  with  his  back  to  the  fire  and 
his  hands  twisted  behind  him,  stood  with  his  eyes 
fixed  in  thought. 

"  It's  rather  cool  of  Phipps,"  he  said,  after  a 
long  silence ;  "  rather  cool,  I  think,  to  go  out  of 
the  world  and  just  leave  his  wife  to  you  to  look 
after.  Some  men  wouldn't  stand  it.  You're  too 
easy-going.  Bob;  that's  what's  the  matter  with 
you." 

Mr.  Clarkson  sighed. 

"And  get  took  advantage  of,"  added  his  friend. 

"  It's  all  very  well  to  talk,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson, 
"but  what  can  I  do?  I  ought  to  have  spoke  up 
at  the  time.     It's  too  late  now." 


122  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  If  I  was  you,"  said  his  friend  very  earnestly, 
"  and  didn't  want  to  marry  her,  I  should  tell  her 
so.  Say  what  you  like  it  ain't  fair  to  her,  you 
know.  It  ain't  fair  to  the  pore  woman.  She'd 
never  forgive  you  if  she  found  it  out." 

"  Everybody's  taking  it  for  granted,"  said  the 
other. 

"  Let  everybody  look  after  their  own  business," 
said  Mr.  Smithson,  tartly.  "  Now,  look  here, 
Bob ;  suppose  I  get  you  out  of  this  business,  how 
am  I  to  be  sure  you'll  leave  your  property  to 
me? — not  that  I  want  it.  Suppose  you  altered 
your  will  ? " 

"  If  you  get  me  out  of  it  every  penny  I  leave 
will  go  to  you,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson,  fervently.  "  I 
haven't  got  any  relations,  and  it  don't  matter  in 
the  slightest  to  me  who  has  it  after  I'm  gone." 

"  As  true  as  you  stand  there  ? "  demanded  the 
other,  eyeing  him  fixedly. 

"As  true  as  I  stand  here,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson, 
smiting  his  chest,  and  shook  hands  again. 

Long  after  his  visitor  had  gone  he  sat  gazing 
in  a  brooding  fashion  at  the  fire.  As  a  single 
man  his  wants  were  few,  and  he  could  live  on 


THE   BEQUEST  123 

his  savings;  as  the  husband  of  Mrs.  Phipps  he 
would  be  compelled  to  resume  the  work  he 
thought  he  had  dropped  for  good  three  years 
before.  Moreover,  Mrs.  Phipps  possessed  a 
strength  of  character  that  had  many  times  caused 
him  to  congratulate  himself  upon  her  choice  of 
a  husband. 

Slowly  but  surely  his  fetters  were  made  secure. 
Two  days  later  the  widow  departed  to  spend  six 
weeks  with  a  sister;  but  any  joy  that  he  might 
have  felt  over  the  circumstance  was  marred  by 
the  fact  that  he  had  to  carry  her  bags  down  to 
the  railway  station  and  see  her  off.  The  key  of 
her  house  was  left  with  him,  with  strict  injunctions 
to  go  in  and  water  her  geraniums  every  day,  while 
two  canaries  and  a  bullfinch  had  to  be  removed 
to  his  own  house  in  order  that  they  might  have 
constant  attention  and  company. 

"  She's  doing  it  on  purpose,"  said  Mr.  Smith- 
son,  fiercely;  "she's  binding  you  hand  and  foot." 

Mr.  Clarkson  assented  gloomily.  "  I'm  trust- 
ing to  you,  George,"  he  remarked, 

"  How'd  it  be  to  forget  to  water  the  geraniums 
and  let  the  birds  die  because  thev  missed  her  so 


124  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

much  ?  "  suggested  Mr.  Smithson,  after  prolonged 
thought. 

Mr.  Clarkson  shivered. 

"  It  would  be  a  hint,"  said  his  friend. 

Mr.  Clarkson  took  some  letters  from  the 
mantelpiece  and  held  them  up.  "  She  writes 
about  them  every  day,"  he  said,  briefly,  "  and  I 
have  to  answer  them." 

"  She — she  don't  refer  to  your  getting  married, 
I  suppose  ? "  said  his  friend,  anxiously. 

Mr.  Clarkson  said  "  No.  But  her  sister  does," 
he  added.     "  I've  had  two  letters  from  her." 

Mr.  Smithson  got  up  and  paced  restlessly  up 
and  down  the  room.  "  That's  women  all  over," 
he  said,  bitterly.  "  They  never  ask  for  things 
straight  out;  but  they  always  get  'em  in  round- 
about ways.  She  can't  do  it  herself,  so  she  gets 
her  sister  to  do  it." 

Mr.  Clarkson  groaned.  "And  her  sister  is 
hinting  that  she  can't  leave  the  house  where  she 
spent  so  many  happy  years,"  he  said,  "  and  says 
what  a  pleasant  surprise  it  would  be  for  Mrs. 
Phipps  if  she  was  to  come  home  and  find  it 
done  up." 


THE   BEQUEST  125 

"  That  means  you've  got  to  live  there  when 
you're  married,"  said  his  friend,  solemnly. 

Mr.  Clarkson  glanced  round  his  comfortable 
room  and  groaned  again.  *'  She  asked  me  to 
get  an  estimate  from  Digson,"  he  said,  dully. 
*'  She  knows  as  well  as  I  do  her  sister  hasn't  got 
any  money.  I  wrote  to  say  that  it  had  better 
be  left  till  she  comes  home,  as  I  might  not  know 
what  was  wanted. 

Mr.  Smithson  nodded  approval. 

"  And  Mrs.  Phipps  wrote  herself  and  thanked 
me  for  being  so  considerate,"  continued  his  friend, 
grimly,  "  and  says  that  when  she  comes  back  we 
must  go  over  the  house  together  and  see  what 
wants  doing." 

Mr.  Smithson  got  up  and  walked  round  the 
room  again. 

"You  never  promised  to  marry  her?"  he  said, 
stopping  suddenly. 

"  No,"  said  the  other.  "  It's  all  been  arranged 
for  me.  I  never  said  a  word.  I  couldn't  tell 
Phipps  I  wouldn't  have  her  with  them  all  stand- 
ing round,  and  him  thinking  he  was  doing  me  the 
greatest  favour  in  the  world." 


126  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Well,  she  can't  name  the  day  unless  you  ask 
her,"  said  the  other,  "  All  you've  got  to  do  is  to 
keep  quiet  and  not  commit  yourself.  Be  as  cool 
as  you  can,  and,  just  before  she  comes  home,  you 
go  off  to  London  on  business  and  stay  there  as 
long  as  possible." 

Mr.  Clarkson  carried  out  his  instructions  to  the 
letter,  and  Mrs.  Phipps,  returning  home  at  the 
end  of  her  visit,  learned  that  he  had  left  for 
London  three  days  before,  leaving  the  geraniums 
and  birds  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Smithson.  From 
the  hands  of  that  unjust  steward  she  received  tw'o 
empty  birdcages,  together  with  a  detailed  account 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  occupants  had  effected 
their  escape,  and  a  bullfinch  that  seemed  to  be 
suffering  from  torpid  liver.  The  condition  of  the 
geraniums  was  ascribed  to  worms  in  the  pots, 
frost,  and  premature  decay. 

"  They  go  like  it  sometimes,"  said  Mr.  Smith- 
son,  "  and  when  they  do  nothing  will  save  'em." 

Mrs.  Phipps  thanked  him.  "  It's  very  kind  of 
you  to  take  so  much  trouble,"  she  said,  quietly; 
"some  people  would  have  lost  the  cages  too 
while  they  were  about  it." 


THE   BEQUEST  127 

"  I  did  my  best,"  said  Mr.  Smithson,  in  a  surly 
voice. 

"  I  know  you  did,"  said  Mrs.  Phipps,  thought- 
fully, "  and  I  am  sure  1  am  much  obliged  to 
you.  If  there  is  anything  of  yours  I  can  look 
after  at  any  time  I  shall  be  only  too  pleased. 
When  did  you  say  Mr.  Clarkson  was  coming 
back  ? " 

"  He  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Smithson, 
promptly.  "He  might  be  away  a  month;  and 
then,  again,  he  might  be  away  six.  It  all  depends. 
You  know  what  business  is." 

"  It's  very  thoughtful  of  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Phipps.    "Very." 

"  Thoughtful !  "  repeated  Mr.  Smithson. 

"  He  has  gone  away  for  a  time  out  of  con- 
sideration for  me,"  said  the  widow.  "As  things 
are,  it  is  a  little  bit  awkward  for  us  to  meet  much 
at  present." 

"  I  don't  think  he's  gone  away  for  that  at  all," 
said  the  other,  bluntly. 

Mrs.  Phipps  shook  her  head.  "Ah,  you  don't 
know  him  as  well  as  I  do,"  she  said,  fondly. 
"  He  has  gone  away  on  my  account,  I  feel  sure." 


128  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Smithson  screwed  his  lips  together  and 
remained  silent. 

"When  he  feels  that  it  is  right  and  proper  for 
him  to  come  back,"  pursued  Mrs.  Phipps,  turning 
her  eyes  upwards,  "  he  will  come.  He  has  left 
his  comfortable  home  just  for  my  sake,  and  I 
shall  not  forget  it." 

Mr.  Smithson  coughed — a  short,  dry  cough, 
meant  to  convey  incredulity. 

"  I  shall  not  do  anything  to  this  house  till  he 
comes  back,"  said  Mrs.  Phipps.  "  I  expect  he 
would  like  to  have  a  voice  in  it.  He  always 
used  to  admire  it  and  say  how  comfortable  it  was. 
Well,  well,  we  never  know  what  is  before  us." 

Mr.  Smithson  repeated  the  substance  of  the 
interview  to  Mr.  Clarkson  by  letter,  and  in  the 
lengthy  correspondence  that  followed  kept  him 
posted  as  to  the  movements  of  Mrs.  Phipps.  By 
dint  of  warnings  and  entreaties  he  kept  the  bride- 
groom-elect in  London  for  three  months.  By 
that  time  Little  Molton  was  beginning  to  talk. 

"  They're  beginning  to  see  how  the  land  lays," 
said  Mr.  Smithson,  on  the  evening  of  his  friend's 
return,  "  and  if  you  keep  quiet  and  do  as  I  tell 


THE   BEQUEST  129 

you  she'll  begin  to  see  it  too.  As  I  said 
before,  she  can't  name  the  day  till  you  ask 
her." 

Mr.  Clarkson  agreed,  and  the  following  morn- 
ing, when  he  called  upon  Mrs.  Phipps  at  her 
request,  his  manner  was  so  distant  that  she 
attributed  it  to  ill-health  following  business 
worries  and  the  atmosphere  of  London.  In  the 
front  parlour  Mr.  Digson,  a  small  builder  and 
contractor,  was  busy  whitewashing. 

"  I  thought  we  might  as  well  get  on  with  that," 
said  Mrs.  Phipps;  "there  is  only  one  way  of 
doing  whitewashing,  and  the  room  has  got  to  be 
done.  To-morrow  Mr.  Digson  will  bring  up 
some  papers,  and,  if  you'll  come  round,  you 
can  help  me  choose." 

Mr.  Clarkson  hesitated.  "  Why  not  choose  'em 
yourself  ? "  he  said  at  last. 

"  Just  what  I  told  her,"  said  Mr.  Digson,  strok- 
ing his  black  beard.  "  '  What'U  please  you  will 
be  sure  to  please  him,'  I  says;  and  if  it  don't  it 
ought  to." 

Mr.  Clarkson  started.  "  Perhaps  you  could 
help  her  choose,"  he  said,  sharply. 


130 


SHIP'S   COMPANY 


Mr.  Digson  came  down  from  his  perch.  "  Just 
what  I  said,"  he  replied.  "  If  Mrs.  Phipps  will 
let  me  advise  her,  I'll  make  this  house  so  she 
won't  know  it  before  I've  done  with  it." 


JUST   WHAT   I    TOLD   HER,      SAID   MR.    DIGSON.       '    '  WHAT  LL 
PLEASE   YOU    WILL    EE   SURE   TO   PLEASE    HIM,'    I    SAYS  " 


"  Mr.  Digson  has  been  very  kind,"  said  Mrs. 
Phipps,  reproachfully. 

"  Not  at  all,  ma'am,"  said  the  builder,  softly. 
"Anything  I  can  do  to  make  you  happy  or  com- 
fortable will  be  a  pleasure  to  me." 

Mr.  Clarkson  started  again,  and  an  odd  idea 


THE   BEQUEST  131 

sent  his  blood  dancing.  Digson  was  a  widower; 
Mrs.  Phipps  was  a  widow.  Could  anything  be 
more  suitable  or  desirable? 

"Better  let  him  choose,"  he  said.  "After  all, 
he  ought  to  be  a  good  judge." 

Mrs.  Phipps,  after  a  faint  protest,  gave  way, 
and  Mr.  Digson,  smiling  broadly,  mounted  his 
perch  again. 

Mr.  Clarkson's  first  idea  was  to  consult  Mr. 
Smithson;  then  he  resolved  to  wait  upon  events. 
The  idea  was  fantastic  to  begin  with,  but,  if  things 
did  take  such  a  satisfactory  turn,  he  could  not 
help  reflecting  that  it  would  not  be  due  to  any 
efforts  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Smithson,  and  he  would 
no  longer  be  under  any  testamentary  obligations 
to  that  enterprising  gentleman. 

By  the  end  of  a  week  he  was  jubilant.  A  child 
could  have  told  Mr.  Digson's  intentions — and 
Mrs.  Phipps  was  anything  but  a  child.  Mr. 
Clarkson  admitted  cheerfully  that  Mr.  Digson 
was  a  younger  and  better-looking  man  than  him- 
self— a  more  suitable  match  in  every  way.  And, 
so  far  as  he  could  judge,  Mrs.  Phipps  seemed  to 
think  so.     At  any  rate,  she  had  ceased  to  make 

K2 


132  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

the  faintest  allusion  to  any  tie  between  them.  He 
left  her  one  day  painting  a  door,  while  the 
attentive  Digson  guided  the  brush,  and  walked 
homewards  smiling. 

"  Morning !  "  said  a  voice  behind  him. 

"  Morning,  Bignell,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson. 

"  When — when  is  it  to  be  ?  "  inquired  his  friend, 
walking  beside  him. 

Mr.  Clarkson  frowned.  "  When  Is  what  to 
be?"  he  demanded,  disagreeably, 

Mr.  Bignell  lowered  his  voice.  "  You'll  lose 
her  if  you  ain't  careful,"  he  said.  "  Mark  my 
words.    Can't  you  see  Digson's  little  game  ?  " 

Mr.  Clarkson  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  He's  after  her  money,"  said  the  other,  with 
a  cautious  glance  around. 

"  Money  ?  "  said  the  other,  with  an  astonished 
laugh.     "  Why,  she  hasn't  got  any." 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Bignell.  "  You  know 
best,  of  course.  I  was  just  giving  you  the  tip, 
but  if  you  know  better — why,  there's  nothing  more 
to  be  said.  She'll  be  riding  in  her  carriage  and 
pair  in  six  months,  anyhow;  the  richest  woman  in 
Little  Molton." 


THE  BEQUEST 


133 


Mr.  Clarkson  stopped  short  and  eyed  him  in 
perplexity. 


'  she'll  be  riding  in  her  carriage  and  pair  in  six  months, 
anyhow  ;  the  richest  woman  in  little  molton " 

"  Digson  got  a  bit  sprung  one  night  and  told 
me,"  said  Mr.  Bignell.    "  She  don't  know  it  her- 


134  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

self  yet — uncle  on  her  mother's  side  in  America. 
She  might  know  at  any  moment." 

"But — but  how  did  Digson  know?"  inquired 
the  astonished  Mr.  Clarkson. 

"  He  wouldn't  tell  me,"  was  the  reply.  "  But 
it's  good  enough  for  him.  What  do  you  think  he's 
after?  Her?  And  mind,  don't  let  on  to  a  soul 
that  I  told  you." 

He  walked  on,  leaving  Mr.  Clarkson  standing 
In  a  dazed  condition  in  the  centre  of  the  footpath. 
Recovering  himself  by  an  effort,  he  walked  slowly 
away,  and,  after  prowling  about  for  some  time 
in  an  aimless  fashion,  made  his  way  back  to  Mrs. 
Phipps's  house. 

He  emerged  an  hour  later  an  engaged  man, 
with  the  date  of  the  wedding  fixed.  With  jaunty 
steps  he  walked  round  and  put  up  the  banns,  and 
then,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  completed 
a  successful  stroke  of  business,  walked  home- 
wards. 

Little  Molton  is  a  small  town,  and  news  travels 
fast,  but  it  did  not  travel  faster  than  Mr.  Smithson 
as  soon  as  he  had  heard  it.  He  burst  into  Mr. 
Clarkson's   room   like   the   proverbial   hurricane, 


THE   BEQUEST  135 

and,  gasping  for  breath,  leaned  against  the  table 
and  pointed  at  him  an  incriminating  finger. 

"  You — you've  been  running,"  said  Mr.  Clark- 
son,  uneasily. 

"  What — what — what  do  you — mean  by  it  ?  " 
gasped  Mr.  Smithson.  "After  all  my  trouble. 
After  our — bargain." 

"  I  altered  my  mind,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson,  with 
dignity. 

''Pah!''  said  the  other. 

"Just  in  time,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson,  speaking 
rapidly.  "Another  day  and  I  believe  I  should 
ha'  been  too  late.  It  took  me  pretty  near  an  hour 
to  talk  her  over.  Said  I'd  been  neglecting  her, 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing;  said  that  she  was 
beginning  to  think  I  didn't  want  her.  As  hard 
a  job  as  ever  I  had  in  my  life." 

"  But  you  didn't  want  her,"  said  the  amazed 
Mr.  Smithson.    "  You  told  me  so." 

"  You  misunderstood  me,"  said  Mr.  Clarkson, 
coughing.    "  You  jump  at  conclusions." 

Mr.  Smithson  sat  staring  at  him.  "  I  heard,'* 
he  said  at  last,  with  an  effort — "  I  heard  that 
Digson  was  paying  her  attentions." 


136  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Clarkson  spoke  without  thought.  "  Ha, 
he  was  only  after  her  money,"  he  said,  severely. 
"  Good  heavens  !     Whafs  the  matter  f  " 

Mr.  Smithson,  who  had  sprung  to  his  feet, 
made  no  reply,  but  stood  for  some  time  incapable 
of  speech. 

"What  —  is  —  the  —  matter?"  repeated  Mr. 
Clarkson.     "  Ain't  you  well  ? " 

Mr.  Smithson  swayed  a  little,  and  sank  slowly 
back  into  his  chair  again. 

"  Room's  too  hot,"  said  his  astonished  host. 

Mr.  Smithson,  staring  straight  before  him, 
nodded. 

"As  I  was  saying,"  resumed  Mr.  Clarkson,  in 
the  low  tones  of  confidence,  "  Digson  was  after 
her  money.  Of  course  her  money  don't  make 
any  difference  to  me,  although,  perhaps,  I  may 
be  able  to  do  something  for  friends  like  you.  It's 
from  an  uncle  in  America  on  her  mother's " 

Mr.  Smithson  made  a  strange  moaning  noise, 
and,  snatching  his  hat  from  the  table,  clapped  it 
on  his  head  and  made  for  the  door.  Mr.  Clarkson 
flung  his  arms  around  him  and  dragged  him  back 
by  main  force. 


THE  BEQUEST  137 

"What  are  you  carrying  on  like  that  for?"  he 
demanded.     "What  do  you  mean  by  it?" 

"  Fancy  !  "  returned  Mr.  Smithson,  with  intense 
bitterness.  "  I  thought  Digson  was  the  biggest 
fool  in  the  place,  and  I  find  I've  made  a  mistake. 
So  have  you.     Good-night." 

He  opened  the  door  and  dashed  out.  Mr. 
Clarkson,  with  a  strange  sinking  at  his  heart, 
watched  him  up  the  road. 


VII 
THE    GUARDIAN   ANGEL 

The  night-watchman  shook  his  head.  "  /  never 
met  any  of  these  phil — philantherpists,  as  you 
call  'em,"  he  said,  decidedly.  "  If  I  'ad  they 
wouldn't  'ave  got  away  from  me  in  a  hurry,  I 
can  tell  you.  I  don't  say  I  don't  believe  in  'em; 
I  only  say  I  never  met  any  of  'em.  If  people  do 
you  a  kindness  it's  generally  because  they  want  to 
get  something  out  of  you;  same  as  a  man  once — 
a  perfick  stranger — wot  stood  me  eight  'arf -pints 
becos  I  reminded  'im  of  his  dead  brother,  and  then 
borrered  five  bob  off  of  me. 

"O'  course,  there  must  be  some  kind-'arted 
people  in  the  world — all  men  who  get  married 
must  'ave  a  soft  spot  somewhere,  if  it's  only  in 
the  'ead — but  they  don't  often  give  things  away. 
Kind-'artedness  is  often  only  another  name  for 
artfulness,  same  as  Sam  Small's  kindness  to 
Ging-er  Dick  and  Peter  Russet. 

138 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  139 

"  It  started  with  a  row.  They  was  just  back 
from  a  v'y'ge  and  'ad  taken  a  nice  room  together 
in  Wapping,  and  for  the  fust  day  or  two,  wot  with 
'aving  plenty  o'  money  to  spend  and  nothing  to 
do,  they  was  like  three  brothers.  Then,  in  a  little, 
old-fashioned  public-'ouse  down  Poplar  way,  one 
night  they  fell  out  over  a  little  joke  Ginger  played 
on  Sam. 

"  It  was  the  fust  drink  that  evening,  and  Sam 
'ad  just  ordered  a  pot  o'  beer  and  three  glasses, 
when  Gingrer  winked  at  the  landlord  and  offered 
to  bet  Sam  a  level  'arf-dollar  that  'e  wouldn't 
drink  off  that  pot  o'  beer  without  taking  breath. 
The  landlord  held  the  money,  and  old  Sam,  with 
a  'appy  smile  on  'is  face,  'ad  just  taken  up  the 
mug,  when  he  noticed  the  odd  way  in  which  they 
was  all  watching  him.  Twice  he  took  the  mug 
up  and  put  it  down  agin  without  starting  and 
asked  'em  wot  the  little  game  was,  but  they  on'y 
laughed.  He  took  it  up  the  third  time  and 
started,  and  he  'ad  just  got  about  'arf-way  through 
when  Ginger  turns  to  the  landlord  and  ses — 

" '  Did  you  catch  it  in  the  mouse-trap,'  he  ses, 
'or  did  it  die  of  poison?* 


((  ( 


((  ( 


140  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Pore  Sam  started  as  though  he  'ad  been  shot, 
and,  arter  getting  rid  of  the  beer  in  'is  mouth, 
stood  there  'olding  the  mug  away  from  'im  and 
making  such  'orrible  faces  that  they  was  a'most 
frightened. 

Wot's  the  matter  with  him  ?  I've  never  seen 
'im  carry  on  like  that  over  a  drop  of  beer  before,' 
ses  Ginger,  staring. 

He  usually  likes  it,'  ses  Peter  Russet. 
Not   with   a   dead   mouse    in   it,'   ses    Sam, 
trembling  with  passion. 

"'Mouse?'  ses  Ginger,  innercent-like. 
'  Mouse  ?  Why,  I  didn't  say  it  was  in  your  beer, 
Sam.     Wotever  put  that  into  your  'ead  ?  ' 

"  *  And  made  you  lose  your  bet,'  ses  Peter. 

"  Then  old  Sam  see  'ow  he'd  been  done,  and 
the  way  he  carried  on  when  the  landlord  gave 
Ginger  the  'arf-dollar,  and  said  it  was  won  fair 
and  honest,  was  a  disgrace.  He  'opped  about 
that  bar  'arf  crazy,  until  at  last  the  landlord  and 
'is  brother,  and  a  couple  o'  soldiers,  and  a  help- 
less cripple  wot  wos  selling  matches,  put  'im  out- 
side and  told  'im  to  stop  there. 

"  He  stopped  there  till  Ginger  and  Peter  came 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  141 

out,  and  then,  drawing  'imself  up  in  a  proud  way, 
he  told  'em  their  characters  and  wot  he  thought 
about  'em.  And  he  said  'e  never  wanted  to 
see  wot  they  called  their  faces  agin  as  long  as  he 
lived. 

" '  I've  done  with  you,'  he  ses,  '  both  of  you, 
for  ever.' 

"  'AH  right,'  ses  Ginger  moving  off.  '  Ta-ta 
for  the  present.  Let's  'ope  he'll  come  'ome  in  a 
better  temper,  Peter.' 

"  '  'Ome  ? '  ses  Sam,  with  a  nasty  laugh,  '  'ome  ? 
D'ye  think  I'm  coming  back  to  breathe  the  same 
air  as  you.  Ginger.'^  D'ye  think  I  want  to  be 
suffocated  .-^ ' 

"  He  held  his  'ead  up  very  'igh,  and,  arter  look- 
ing at  them  as  if  they  was  dirt,  he  turned  round 
and  walked  off  with  his  nose  in  the  air  to  spend 
the  evening  by  'imself. 

"  His  temper  kept  him  up  for  a  time,  but  arter 
a  while  he  'ad  to  own  up  to  'imself  that  it  was 
very  dull,  and  the  later  it  got  the  more  he  thought 
of  'is  nice  warm  bed.  The  more  'e  thought  of 
it  the  nicer  and  warmer  it  seemed,  and,  arter  a 
struggle  between  his  pride  and  a  few  'arf -pints. 


142  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

he  got  'is  good  temper  back  agin  and  went  off 
'ome  smiling. 

"  The  room  was  dark  when  'e  got  there,  and, 
arter  standing  listening  a  moment  to  Ginger  and 
Peter  snoring,  he  took  off  'is  coat  and  sat  down 
on  'is  bed  to  take  'is  boots  off.  He  only  sat 
down  for  a  flash,  and  then  he  bent  down  and  hit 
his  'ead  an  awful  smack  against  another  'ead  wot 
'ad  just  started  up  to  see  wot  it  was  sitting  on  its 
legs. 

"He  thought  it  was  Peter  or  Ginger  in  the 
wrone  bed  at  fust  but  afore  he  could  make  it 
out  Ginger  'ad  got  out  of  'is  own  bed  and 
lit  the  candle.  Then  'e  saw  it  was  a  stranger 
in  'is  bed,  and  without  saying  a  word  he  laid 
'old  of  him  by  the  'air  and  began  dragging  him 

out. 

" '  Here,  stop  that ! '  ses  Ginger  catching  hold 
of  'im.     *  Lend  a  hand  'ere,  Peter.' 

"  Peter  lent  a  hand  and  screwed  it  into  the  back 
o'  Sam's  neck  till  he  made  'im  leave  go,  and  then 
the  stranger,  a  nasty-looking  little  chap  with  a 
yellow  face  and  a  little  dark  moustache,  told  Sam 
wot  he'd  like  to  do  to  him. 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  143 

"  '  Who  are  you  ? '  ses  Sam,  '  and  wot  are  you 
a-doing  of  in  my  bed  ?  ' 

"  '  It's  our  lodger,'  ses  Ginger. 

" '  Your — wot  f '  ses  Sam,  'ardly  able  to  believe 
his  ears. 

"  '  Our  lodger,'  ses  Peter  Russet.  '  We've  let 
'im  the  bed  you  said  you  didn't  want  for  sixpence 
a  night.     Now  you  take  yourself  off.' 

"Old  Sam  couldn't  speak  for  a  minute;  there 
was  no  words  that  he  knew  bad  enough,  but  at 
last  he  licks  'is  lips  and  he  ses,  '  I've  paid  for  that 
bed  up  to  Saturday,  and  I'm  going  to  have  it.' 

"  He  rushed  at  the  lodger,  but  Peter  and  Ginger 
got  hold  of  'im  agin  and  put  'im  down  on  the 
floor  and  sat  on  'im  till  he  promised  to  be'ave 
himself.  They  let  'im  get  up  at  last,  and  then, 
arter  calling  themselves  names  for  their  kind- 
'artedness,  they  said  if  he  was  very  good  he  might 
sleep  on  the  floor. 

"  Sam  looked  at  'em  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
without  a  word,  he  took  off  'is  boots  and  put  on 
'is  coat  and  went  up  in  a  corner  to  be  out  of  the 
draught,  but,  wot  with  the  cold  and  'is  temper, 
and  the  hardness  of  the  floor,  it  was  a  long  time 


144 


SHIP'S   COMPANY 


afore  'e  could  get  to  sleep.  He  dropped  off  at 
last,  and  it  seemed  to  'im  that  he  'ad  only  just 
closed  'is  eyes  when  it  was  daylight.  He  opened 
one  eye  and  was  just  going  to  open  the  other  when 


*'  THE   LODGER  WAS   STANDING   AT  THE    FOOT   o'   GINGER'S   BED, 
GOING  THROUGH  'iS  POCKETS" 

he  saw  something  as  made  'im  screw  'em  both  up 
sharp  and  peep  through  'is  eyelashes.  The 
lodger  was  standing  at  the  foot  o'  Ginger's  bed, 
going  through  'is  pockets,  and  then,  arter  waiting 
a    moment    and  'aving  a    look   round,    he    went 


THE    GUARDIAN   ANGEL  145 

through  Peter  Russet's.  Sam  lay  still  as  a  mouse 
while  the  lodger  tip-toed  out  o'  the  room  with  'is 
boots  in  his  'and,  and  then,  springing  up,  foUered 
him  downstairs. 

"He  caught  'im  up  just  as  he  'ad  undone  the 
front  door,  and,  catching  hold  of  'im  by  the  back 
o'  the  neck,  shook  'im  till  'e  was  tired.  Then  he 
let  go  of  'im  and,  holding  his  fist  under  'is  nose, 
told  'im  to  hand  over  the  money,  and  look  sharp 
about  it. 

" '  Ye — ye — yes,  sir,'  ses  the  lodger,  who  was 
'arf  choked. 

"  Sam  held  out  his  'and,  and  the  lodger,  arter 
saying  it  was  only  a  little  bit  o'  fun  on  'is  part, 
and  telling  'im  wot  a  fancy  he  'ad  taken  to  'im 
from  the  fust,  put  Ginger's  watch  and  chain  into 
his  'ands  and  eighteen  pounds  four  shillings  and 
sevenpence.  Sam  put  it  into  his  pocket,  and, 
arter  going  through  the  lodger's  pockets  to  make 
sure  he  'adn't  forgot  anything,  opened  the  door 
and  flung  'im  into  the  street.  He  stopped  on  the 
landing  to  put  the  money  in  a  belt  he  was  wear- 
ing under  'is  clothes,  and  then  'e  went  back  on  tip- 
toe to  'is  corner  and  went  to  sleep  with  one  eye 


146  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

open  and  the  'applest  smile  that  had  been  on  his 
face  for  years. 

"  He  shut  both  eyes  when  he  'card  Ginger  wake 
up,  and  he  slept  like  a  child  through  the  'orrible 
noise  that  Peter  and  Ginger  see  fit  to  make  when 
they  started  to  put  their  clothes  on.  He  got  tired 
of  it  afore  they  did,  and,  arter  opening  'is  eyes 
slowly  and  yawning,  he  asked  Ginger  wot  he 
meant  by  it. 

"  '  You'll  wake  your  lodger  up  if  you  ain't  care- 
ful, making  that  noise,'  he  ses.  '  Wot's  the 
matter  ? ' 

" '  Sam,'  ses  Ginger,  in  a  very  different  voice  to 
wot  he  'ad  used  the  night  before,  '  Sam,  old  pal, 
he's  taken  all  our  money  and  bolted.' 

"'Wot.'*'  ses  Sam,  sitting  up  on  the  floor  and 
blinking.     *  Nonsense  ! ' 

" '  Robbed  me  and  Peter,'  ses  Ginger,  in  a 
trembling  voice;  'taken  every  penny  we've  got, 
and  my  watch  and  chain.' 

"  '  You're  dreaming,'  ses  Sam. 

" '  I  wish  I  was,'  ses  Ginger. 

" '  But  surely,  Ginger,'  ses  Sam,  standing  up, 
'  surely  you  didn't  take  a  lodger  without  a 
character?' 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  147 

" '  He  seemed  such  a  nice  chap,'  ses  Peter. 
'  We  was  only  saying  wot  a  much  nicer  chap  he 
was  than — than ' 

" '  Go  on,  Peter,'  ses  Sam,  very  perlite. 

" '  Than  he  might  ha'  been,'  ses  Ginger,  very 
quick. 

" '  Well,  I've  'ad  a  wonderful  escape,'  ses  Sam. 
'  If  it  hadn't  ha'  been  for  sleeping  in  my  clothes 
I  suppose  he'd  ha'  'ad  my  money  as  well.' 

"  He  felt  in  'is  pockets  anxious-like,  then  he 
smiled,  and  stood  there  letting  'is  money  fall 
through  'is  fingers  into  his  pocket  over  and  over 
agin. 

"'Pore  chap,'  he  ses;  'pore  chap;  p'r'aps  he'd 
got  a  starving  wife  and  family.  Who  knows? 
It  ain't  for  us  to  judge  'im,  Ginger.' 

"  He  stood  a  little  while  longer  chinking  'is 
money,  and  when  he  took  off  his  coat  to  wash 
Ginger  Dick  poured  the  water  out  for  'im  and 
Peter  Russet  picked  up  the  soap,  which  'ad  fallen 
on  the  floor.  Then  they  started  pitying  them- 
selves, looking  very  'ard  at  the  back  of  old  Sam 
while  they  did  it. 

" '  I  s'pose  we've  got  to  starve,  Peter,'  ses 
Ginger,  in  a  sad  voice. 

L2 


148  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

" '  Looks  like  it,'  ses  Peter,  dressing  hisself 
very  slowly. 

*' '  There's  nobody'll  mourn  for  me,  that's  one 
comfort,'  ses  Ginger. 

"  '  Or  me,'  ses  Peter. 

" '  P'r'aps  Sam'U  miss  us  a  bit,'  ses  Ginger, 
grinding  'is  teeth  as  old  Sam  went  on  washing  as 
if  he  was  deaf.  'He's  the  only  real  pal  we  ever 
'ad.' 

"'Wot  are  you  talking  about.'*'  ses  Sam,  turn- 
ing round  with  the  soap  in  his  eyes,  and  feeling 
for  the  towel.  'Wot  d'ye  want  to  starve  for? 
Why  don't  you  get  a  ship  ? ' 

" '  I  thought  we  was  all  going  to  sign  on  in  the 
Chesapeake  agin,  Sam,'  ses  Ginger,  very  mild. 

She  won't  be  ready  for  sea  for  pretty  near 
three  weeks,'  ses  Sam.     '  You  know  that.' 

" '  P'r'aps  Sam  would  lend  us  a  trifle  to  go  on 
with,  Ginger,'  ses  Peter  Russet.  'Just  enough  to 
keep  body  and  soul  together,  so  as  we  can  hold 
out  and  'ave  the  pleasure  of  sailing  with  'im  agin.' 
P'r'aps  he  wouldn't,'  ses  Sam,  afore  Ginger 
could  open  his  mouth.  '  Fve  just  got  about 
enough  to  last  myself;  I  'aven't  got  any  to  lend. 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  149 

Sailormen  wot  turns  on  their  best  friends  and 
makes  them  sleep  on  the  cold  'ard  floor  while 
their  new  pal  is  in  his  bed  don't  get  money  lent 
to  'em.  My  neck  is  so  stiff  it  creaks  every  time 
I  move  it,  and  I've  got  the  rheumatics  in  my  legs 
something  cruel/ 

"  He  began  to  'um  a  song,  and  putting  on  'is 
cap  went  out  to  get  some  brekfuss.  He  went  to 
a  little  eating-'ouse  near  by,  where  they  was  in 
the  'abit  of  going,  and  'ad  just  started  on  a  plate 
of  eggs  and  bacon  when  Ginger  Dick  and  Peter 
came  into  the  place  with  a  pocket-'ankercher  of 
'is  wot  they  'ad  found  in  the  fender. 

" '  We  thought  you  might  want  it,  Sam,'  ses 
Peter. 

"  '  So  we  brought  it  along,'  ses  Ginger.  '  I  'ope 
you're  enjoying  of  your  brekfuss,  Sam.' 

"  Sam  took  the  'ankercher  and  thanked  'em  very 
perlite,  and  arter  standing  there  for  a  minute  or 
two  as  if  they  wanted  to  say  something  they 
couldn't  remember,  they  sheered  off.  When  Sam 
left  the  place  'arf-an-hour  arterwards  they  was 
still  hanging  about,  and  as  Sam  passed  Ginger 
asked  'im  if  he  was  going  for  a  walk. 


150 


SHIP'S   COMPANY 


"'Walk!'  ses  Sam.  '  Cert'nly  not.  I'm 
going  to  bed;  /  didn't  'ave  a  good  night's  rest 
like  you  and  your  lodger.' 

"  He  went  back  'ome,  and  arter  taking  off  'is 


"  '  WE  THOUGHT   YOU    MIGHT  WANT   IT,    SAM,'   SES   PETER  " 

coat  and  boots  got  into  bed  and  slept  like  a  top 
till  one  o'clock,  when  he  woke  up  to  find  Ginger 
shaking  'im  by  the  shoulders. 

'"Wot's  the  matter?'  he  ses.     'Wot  are  you 
up  to?* 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  151 

"  '  It's  dinner-time,'  ses  Ginger.  '  I  thought 
p'r'aps  you'd  like  to  know,  in  case  you  missed 
it/ 

" '  You  leave  me  alone,'  ses  Sam,  cuddling  into 
the  clothes  agin.  '  I  don't  want  no  dinner.  You 
go  and  look  arter  your  own  dinners.' 

"  He  stayed  in  bed  for  another  'arf-hour,  listen- 
ing to  Peter  and  Ginger  telling  each  other  in 
loud  whispers  'ow  hungry  they  was,  and  then 
he  got  up  and  put  'is  things  on  and  went  to  the 
door. 

" '  I'm  going  to  get  a  bit  o'  dinner,'  he  ses. 
'And  mind,  I've  got  my  pocket-'ankercher.' 

"  He  went  out  and  'ad  a  steak  and  onions  and 
a  pint  o'  beer,  but,  although  he  kept  looking  up 
sudden  from  'is  plate,  he  didn't  see  Peter  or 
Ginger.  It  spoilt  'is  dinner  a  bit,  but  arter  he  got 
outside  'e  saw  them  standing  at  the  corner,  and, 
pretending  not  to  see  them,  he  went  off  for  a  walk 
down  the  Mile  End  Road. 

"  He  walked  as  far  as  Bow  with  them  follering 
'im,  and  then  he  jumped  on  a  bus  and  rode  back 
as  far  as  Whitechapel.  There  was  no  sign  of 
'em  when  he  got  off,  and,  feeling  a  bit  lonesome, 


152  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

he  stood  about  looking  in  shop-windows  until  'e 
see  them  coming  along  as  hard  as  they  could  come. 

"  '  Why,  halloa  !  '  he  ses.  '  Where  did  you 
spring  from  ? ' 

"  '  We — we — we've  been — for  a  bit  of  a  walk,' 
ses  Ginger  Dick,  puffing  and  blowing  like  a 
grampus. 

" '  To — keep  down  the  'unger,'  ses  Peter 
Russet. 

"  Old  Sam  looked  at  'em  very  stern  for  a 
moment,  then  he  beckoned  'em  to  foller  'im,  and, 
stopping  at  a  little  public-'ouse,  he  went  in  and 
ordered  a  pint  o'  bitter. 

" '  And  give  them  two  pore  fellers  a  crust  o' 
bread  and  cheese  and  'arf-a-pint  of  four  ale  each,' 
he  ses  to  the  barmaid. 

"  Ginger  and  Peter  looked  at  each  other,  but 
they  was  so  hungry  they  didn't  say  a  word ;  they 
just  stood  waiting. 

" '  Put  that  inside  you,  my  pore  fellers,'  ses 
Sam,  with  a  oily  smile.  '  I  can't  bear  to  see 
people  suffering  for  want  o'  food,'  he  ses  to  the 
barmaid,  as  he  chucked  down  a  sovereign  on  the 
counter. 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  153 

"  The  barmaid,  a  very  nice  gal  with  black  'air 
and  her  fingers  covered  all  over  with  rings,  said 
that  it  did  'im  credit,  and  they  stood  there  talking 
about  tramps  and  beggars  and  such-like  till  Peter 
and  Ginger  nearly  choked.  He  stood  there 
watching  'em  and  smoking  a  threepenny  cigar,  and 
when  they  'ad  finished  he  told  the  barmaid  to  give 
'em  a  sausage-roll  each,  and  went  off. 

"  Peter  and  Ginger  snatched  up  their  sausage- 
rolls  and  follered  'im,  and  at  last  Ginger  swal- 
lowed his  pride  and  walked  up  to  'im  and  asked 
'im  to  lend  them  some  money. 

"  '  You'll  get  it  back  agin,'  he  ses.  '  You  know 
that  well  enough.' 

"  '  Cert'nly  not,'  ses  Sam ;  '  and  I'm  surprised 
at  you  asking.  Why,  a  child  could  rob  you.  It's 
'ard  enough  as  it  is  for  a  pore  man  like  me  to  'ave 
to  keep  a  couple  o'  hulking  sailormen,  but  I'm 
not  going  to  give  you  money  to  chuck  away  on 
lodgers.  No  more  sleeping  on  the  floor  for  me ! 
Now,  I  don't  want  none  o'  your  langwidge,  and  I 
don't  want  you  follering  me  like  a  couple  o'  cats 
arter  a  meat-barrer.  I  shall  be  'aving  a  cup  o' 
tea  at  Brown's  coffee-shop  by  and  by,  and  if  you're 


154  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

there  at  five  sharp  I'll  see  wot  I  can  do  for  you. 
Wot  did  you  call  me  ? ' 

"  Ginger  told  'im  three  times,  and  then  Peter 
Russet  dragged  'im  away.  They  turned  up  out- 
side Brown's  at  a  quarter  to  five,  and  at  ten  past 
six  Sam  Small  strolled  up  smoking  a  cigar,  and, 
arter  telling  them  that  he  'ad  forgot  all  about  'em, 
took  'em  inside  and  paid  for  their  teas.  He  told 
Mr.  Brown  'e  was  paying  for  'em,  and  'e  told  the 
gal  wot  served  'em  'e  was  paying  for  'em,  and  it 
was  all  pore  Ginger  could  do  to  stop  'imself  from 
throwing  his  plate  in  'is  face. 

"  Sam  went  off  by  'imself,  and  arter  walking 
about  all  the  evening  without  a  ha'penny  in  their 
pockets.  Ginger  Dick  and  Peter  went  off  'ome  to 
bed  and  went  to  sleep  till  twelve  o'clock,  when 
Sam  came  in  and  woke  'em  up  to  tell  "em  about 
a  music-'all  he  'ad  been  to,  and  'ow  many  pints  he 
had  'ad.  He  sat  up  in  bed  till  past  one  o'clock 
talking  about  'imself,  and  twice  Peter  Russet 
woke  Ginger  up  to  listen  and  got  punched  for  'is 
trouble. 

"  They  both  said  they'd  get  a  ship  next  morn- 
ing, and  then  old  Sam  turned  round  and  wouldn't 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  155 

'ear  of  it.  The  airs  he  gave  'imself  was  awful. 
He  said  he'd  tell  'em  when  they  was  to  get  a  ship, 
and  if  they  went  and  did  things  without  asking 
'im  he'd  let  'em  starve. 

"  He  kept  'em  with  'im  all  that  day  for  fear 
of  losing  'em  and  having  to  give  'em  their  money 
when  'e  met  'em  agin  instead  of  spending  it  on 
'em  and  getting  praised  for  it.  They  'ad  their 
dinner  with  'im  at  Brown's,  and  nothing  they  could 
do  pleased  him.  He  spoke  to  Peter  Russet  out 
loud  about  making  a  noise  while  he  was  eating, 
and  directly  arterwards  he  told  Ginger  to  use  his 
pocket-'ankercher.  Pore  Ginger  sat  there  look- 
ing at  'im  and  swelling  and  swelling  until  he 
nearly  bust,  and  Sam  told  'im  if  he  couldn't  keep 
'is  temper  when  people  was  trying  to  do  'im  a 
kindness  he'd  better  go  and  get  somebody  else  to 
keep  him. 

"  He  took  'em  to  a  music-'all  that  night,  but 
he  spoilt  it  all  for  'em  by  taking  'em  into  the  little 
public-'ouse  in  Whitechapel  Road  fust  and  stand- 
ing 'em  a  drink.  He  told  the  barmaid  'e  was 
keeping  'em  till  they  could  find  a  job,  and  arter 
she  'ad  told  him  he  was  too  soft-'arted  and  would 


156  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

only  be  took  advantage  of,  she  brought  another 
barmaid  up  to  look  at  'em  and  ask  'em  wot  they 
could  do,  and  why  they  didn't  do  it. 

"  Sam  served  'em  like  that  for  over  a  week,  and 
he  'ad  so  much  praise  from  Mr.  Brown  and  other 
people  that  it  nearly  turned  his  'ead.  For  once 
in  his  life  he  'ad  it  pretty  near  all  'is  own  way. 
Twice  Ginger  Dick  slipped  off  and  tried  to  get  a 
ship  and  came  back  sulky  and  hungry,  and  once 
Peter  Russet  sprained  his  thumb  trying  to  get 
a  job  at  the  docks. 

"  They  gave  it  up  then,  and  kept  to  Sam  like 
a  couple  o'  shadders,  only  giving  'im  back-answers 
when  they  felt  as  if  something  'ud  give  way  in- 
side if  they  didn't.  For  the  fust  time  in  their 
lives  they  began  to  count  the  days  till  their  boat 
was  ready  for  sea.     Then  something  happened. 

"  They  was  all  coming  'ome  late  one  night  along 
the  Minories,  when  Ginger  Dick  gave  a  shout  and, 
suddenly  bolting  up  a  little  street  arter  a  man  that 
'ad  turned  up  there,  fust  of  all  sent  'im  flying 
with  a  heavy  punch  of  'is  fist,  and  then  knelt  on 
'im. 

Now  then.   Ginger,'  ses   Sam,  bustling  up 


THE   GUARDIAN  ANGEL  157 

with    Peter   Russet,    'wot's   all    this?      Wot   yer 
doing? ' 

"  '  It's  the  thief,'  ses  Ginger.  '  It's  our  lodger. 
You  keep  still ! '  he  ses,  shaking  the  man.  '  D'ye 
hear  ? ' 

"  Peter  gave  a  shout  of  joy,  and  stood  by  to 
help. 

" '  Nonsense ! '  ses  old  Sam,  turning  pale. 
*  You've  been  drinking,  Ginger.  This  comes  of 
standing  you  'arf -pints.' 

"  '  It's  him  right  enough,'  ses  Ginger.  '  I'd 
know  'is  ugly  face  anywhere.' 

" '  You  come  off  'ome  at  once,'  ses  Sam,  very 
sharp,  but  his  voice  trembling.  'At  once.  D'ye 
hear  me  ? ' 

"  '  Fetch  a  policeman,  Peter,'  ses  Ginger. 

" '  Let  the  pore  feller  go,  I  tell  you,'  ses  Sam, 
stamping  his  foot.  "  'Ow  would  you  like  to  be 
locked  up  ?  'Ow  would  you  like  to  be  torn  away 
from  your  wife  and  little  ones?  'Ow  would 
you ' 

"  '  Fetch  a  policeman,  Peter,'  ses  Ginger  again. 
'D'ye  hear?' 

Don't    do    that,    guv'nor,'    ses    the    lodger. 


((  ( 

((  (  >l 


158  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

'  You  got  your  money  back.     Wot's  the  good  o' 
putting  me  away  ?  ' 

Got  our  wot  back  ? '  ses  Ginger,  shaking  'im 
agin.  '  Don't  you  try  and  be  funny  with  me,  else 
I'll  tear  you  into  little  pieces.' 

But  he  took  it  back,'  ses  the  man,  trying  to 
sit  up  and  pointing  at  Sam.  '  He  foUered  me 
downstairs  and  took  it  all  away  from  me.  Your 
ticker  as  well.' 

'Wot.?  '  ses  Ginger  and  Peter  both  together. 
'Strue  as   I'm  'ere,'   ses  the   lodger.     '  You 
turn  'is  pockets  out  and  see.     Look  out !     He's 
going  off !  ' 

"  Ginger  turned  his  'ead  just  in  time  to  see  old 
Sam  nipping  round  the  corner.  He  pulled  the 
lodger  up  like  a  flash,  and,  telling  Peter  to  take 
hold  of  the  other  side  of  him,  they  set  off  arter 
Sam. 

"'Little — ^joke — o'  mine — Ginger,'  ses  Sam, 
when  they  caught  'im.  '  I  was  going  to  tell  you 
about  it  to-night.  It  ain't  often  I  get  the  chance 
of  a  joke  agin  you,  Ginger;  you're  too  sharp  for 
a  old  man  like  me.' 

"Ginger  Dick  didn't  say  anything.     He  kept 


THE   GUARDIAN   ANGEL  159 

'old  o'  Sam's  arm  with  one  hand  and  the  lodger's 
neck  with  the  other,  and  marched  'em  off  to  his 
lodgings.  He  shut  the  door  when  'e  got  in,  and 
arter  Peter  'ad  lit  the  candle  they  took  hold  o' 
Sam  and  went  through  'im,  and  arter  trying  to  find 
pockets  where  he  'adn't  got  any,  they  took  off  'is 
belt  and  found  Ginger's  watch,  seventeen  pounds 
five  shillings,  and  a  few  coppers. 

" '  We  'ad  over  nine  quid  each,  me  and  Peter,' 
ses  Ginger.     '  Where's  the  rest?  ' 

" '  It's  all  I've  got  left,'  ses  Sam ;  '  every 
ha'penny.' 

"  He  'ad  to  undress  and  even  take  'is  boots  off 
afore  they'd  believe  'im,  and  then  Ginger  took  'is 
watch  and  he  ses  to  Peter,  '  Lemme  see ;  'arf  of 
seventeen  pounds  is  eight  pounds  ten ;  'arf  of  five 
shillings  is  'arf-a-crown ;  and  'arf  of  fourpence  is 
twopence.' 

" '  What  about  me,  Ginger,  old  pal,'  ses 
Sam,  in  a  kind  voice.  '  We  must  divide  it  into 
threes.' 

" '  Threes  f '  ses  Ginger,  staring  at  'im. 
'  Whaff  or  ? ' 

" '  'Cos  part  of  it's  mine,'  ses  Sam,  struggling 


ii  i 


(C   c 


160  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

'ard  to  be  perlite.     '  I've  paid  for  everything  for 
the  last  ten  days,  ain't  I  ? ' 

" '  Yes,'  ses  Ginger.  '  You  'ave,  and  I  thank 
you  for  it.' 

So  do  I,'  ses  Peter  Russet.     '  Hearty  I  do.' 
It   was    your   kind-'artedness,'    ses    Ginger, 
grinning  like  mad.     '  You  gave  it  to  us,  and  we 
wouldn't  dream  of  giving  it  to  you  back.' 

" '  Nothin'  o'  the  kind,'  ses  Sam,  choking. 

"  '  Oh  yes,  you  did,'  ses  Ginger,  '  and  you  didn't 
forget  to  tell  people  neither.  You  told  every- 
body.    Now  it's  our  turn.' 

"  He  opened  the  door  and  kicked  the  lodger 
out.  Leastways,  he  would  'ave  kicked  'im,  but 
the  chap  was  too  quick  for  'im.  And  then  'e  came 
back,  and,  putting  his  arm  round  Peter's  waist, 
danced  a  waltz  round  the  room  with  'im,  while 
pore  old  Sam  got  on  to  his  bed  to  be  out  of  the 
way.  They  danced  for  nearly  'arf-an-hour,  and 
then  they  undressed  and  sat  on  Peter's  bed  and 
talked.  They  talked  in  whispers  at  fust,  but  at 
last  Sam  'eard  Peter  say — 

"  '  Threepence  for  'is  brekf uss ;  sevenpence  for 
'is  dinner;  threepence  for  'is  tea;  penny  for  beer 


THE  GUARDIAN  ANGEL  161 

and  a  penny  for  bacca.  'Ow  much  is  that, 
Ginger?' 

"  '  One  bob/  ses  Ginger. 

"  Peter  counted  up  to  'imself .  '  I  make  it  more 
than  that,  old  pal,'  he  ses,  when  he  'ad  finished. 

"'Do  you?'  ses  Ginger,  getting  up.  'Well, 
he  won't ;  not  if  he  counts  it  twenty  times  over  he 
won't.     Good-night,  Peter.     'Appy  dreams.'  " 


M 


VIII 
DUAL   CONTROL 

"  Never  say  '  die,'  Bert,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper, 
kindly ;  "  I  like  you,  and  so  do  most  other  people 
who  know  what's  good  for  'em;  and  if  Florrie 
don't  like  you  she  can  keep  single  till  she 
does." 

Mr.  Albert  Sharp  thanked  him. 

*'  Come  in  more  oftener,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper. 
"  If  she  don't  know  a  steady  young  man  when  she 
sees  him,  it's  her  mistake." 

"  Nobody  could  be  steadier  than  what  I  am," 
sighed  Mr.  Sharp. 

Mr.  Culpepper  nodded.  "  The  worst  of  it  is, 
girls  don't  like  steady  young  men,"  he  said, 
rumpling  his  thin  grey  hair;  "that's  the  silly 
part  of  it." 

"  But    you    was    always    steady,     and     Mrs. 

Culpepper  married  you,"  said  the  young  man. 

Mr.  Culpepper  nodded  again.     "  She  thought 

162 


DUAL   CONTROL  163 

I  was,  and  that  came  to  the  same  thing,"  he  said, 
composedly.  "  And  it  ain't  for  me  to  say,  but  she 
had  an  idea  that  I  was  very  good-looking  in  them 
days.  I  had  chestnutty  hair.  She  burnt  a  piece 
of  it  only  the  other  day  she'd  kept  for  thirty 
years." 

"Burnt  it?     What  for?"  inquired  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  Words,"  said  the  other,  lowering  his  voice. 
"  When  I  want  one  thing  nowadays  she  generally 
wants  another;  and  the  things  she  wants  ain't  the 
things  I  want." 

Mr.  Sharp  shook  his  head  and  sighed  again. 

"  You  ain't  talkative  enough  for  Florrie,  you 
know,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper,  regarding  him. 

"  I  can  talk  all  right  as  a  rule,"  retorted  Mr. 
Sharp.  "  You  ought  to  hear  me  at  the  debating 
society;  but  you  can't  talk  to  a  girl  who  doesn't 
talk  back." 

"  You're  far  too  humble,"  continued  the  other. 
"  You  should  cheek  her  a  bit  now  and  then.  Let 
'er  see  you've  got  some  spirit.     Chaff  'er." 

"  That's  no  good,"  said  the  young  man,  rest- 
lessly. "  I've  tried  it.  Only  the  other  day  I 
called  her  'a  saucy  little  kipper,'  and  the  way 

M  2 


164  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

she  went  on,  anybody  would  have  thought  I'd 
insulted  her.  Can't  see  a  joke,  I  s'pose.  Where 
is  she  now  ?  " 

"  Upstairs,"  was  the  reply. 

'*'  That's  because  I'm  here,"  sai^  Mr.  Sharp. 
"  If  it  had  been  Jack  Butler  she'd  have  been  down 
fast  enough." 

"  It  couldn't  be  him,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper, 
"  because  I  won't  have  'im  in  the  house.  I've  told 
him  so;  I've  told  her  so,  and  I've  told  'er  aunt  so. 
And  if  she  marries  without  my  leave  afore  she's 
thirty  she  loses  the  seven  hundred  pounds  'er 
father  left  her.  You've  got  plenty  of  time — ten 
years." 

Mr.  Sharp,  sitting  with  his  hands  between  his 
knees,  gazed  despondently  at  the  floor.  "  There's 
a  lot  o'  girls  would  jump  at  me,"  he  remarked. 
"  I've  only  got  to  hold  up  my  little  finger  and 
they'd  jump." 

"  That's  because  they've  got  sense,"  said  Mr. 
Culpepper.  "  They've  got  the  sense  to  prefer 
steadiness  and  humdrumness  to  good  looks  and 
dash.  A  young  fellow  like  you  earning  thirty-two- 
and-six  a  week  can  do  without  good  looks,  and  if 


DUAL   CONTROL  165 

I've  told  Florrie  so  once  I  have  told  her  fifty 
times." 

"  Looks  are  a  matter  of  taste,"  said  Mr.  Sharp, 
morosely.  "  Some  of  them  girls  I  was  speaking 
about  just  now " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper,  hastily. 
"  Now,  look  here ;  you  go  on  a  different  tack. 
Take  a  glass  of  ale  like  a  man  or  a  couple  o' 
glasses;  smoke  a  cigarette  or  a  pipe.  Be  like 
other  young  men.  Cut  a  dash,  and  don't  be  a 
namby-pamby.  After  you're  married  you  can  be 
as  miserable  as  you  like." 

Mr.  Sharp,  after  a  somewhat  lengthy  interval, 
thanked  him. 

"  It's  my  birthday  next  Wednesday,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Culpepper,  regarding  him  benevo- 
lently'; "come  round  about  seven,  and  I'll  ask 
you  to  stay  to  supper.  That'll  give  you  a  chance. 
Anybody's  allowed  to  step  a  bit  over  the  mark 
on  birthdays,  and  you  might  take  a  glass  or 
two  and  make  a  speech,  and  be  so  happy  and 
bright  that  they'd  'ardly  know  you.  If  you  want 
an  excuse  for  calling,  you  could  bring  me  a  box 
of  cigars  for  my  birthday." 


166  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Or  come  in  to  wish  you  '  Many  Happy 
Returns  of  the  Day,' "  said  the  thrifty  Mr.  Sharp. 

'■  And  don't  forget  to  get  above  yourself,"  said 
Mr.  Culpepper,  regarding  him  sternly;  "in  a 
gentlemanly  way,  of  course.  Have  as  many 
glasses  as  you  like — there's  no  stint  about  me." 

"  If  it  ever  comes  off,"  said  Mr.  Sharp,  rising — 
"  if  I  get  her  through  you,  you  shan't  have  reason 
to  repent  it.    I'll  look  after  that." 

Mr.  Culpepper,  whose  feelings  were  a  trifle 
ruffled,  said  that  he  would  "  look  after  it  too."  He 
had  a  faint  idea  that,  even  from  his  own  point  of 
view,  he  might  have  made  a  better  selection  for 
his  niece's  hand. 

Mr.  Sharp  smoked  his  first  cigarette  the  follow- 
ing morning,  and,  encouraged  by  the  entire 
absence  of  any  after-effects,  purchased  a  pipe, 
which  was  taken  up  by  a  policeman  the  same 
evening  for  obstructing  the  public  footpath  in 
company  with  a  metal  tobacco-box  three  parts 
full. 

In  the  matter  of  ale  he  found  less  difficulty. 
Certainly  the  taste  was  unpleasant,  but,  treated 
as   medicine   and   gulped   down   quickly,   it  was 


DUAL   CONTROL  167 

endurable.  After  a  day  or  two  he  even  began 
to  be  critical,  and  on  Monday  evening  went  so 
far  as  to  complain  of  its  flatness  to  the  wide- 
eyed  landlord  of  the  "  Royal  George." 

"  Too  much  cellar-work,"  he  said,  as  he  finished 
his  glass  and  made  for  the  door. 

"  Too  much !     'Ere,  come  'ere,"  said  the 

landlord,  thickly.     **  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

The  expert  shook  his  head,  and,  passing  out 
into  the  street,  changed  colour  as  he  saw  Miss 
Garland  approaching.  In  a  blundering  fashion 
he  clutched  at  his  hat  and  stammered  out  a 
"  Good  evening." 

Miss  Garland  returned  the  greeting  and,  in- 
stead of  passing  on,  stopped  and,  with  a  friendly 
smile,  held  out  her  hand.  Mr.  Sharp  shook  it 
convulsively. 

**  You  are  just  the  man  I  want  to  see,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Aunt  and  I  have  been  talking  about 
you  all  the  afternoon." 

Mr.  Sharp  said  "  Really  !  " 

"  But  I  don't  want  uncle  to  see  us,"  pursued 
Miss  Garland,  in  the  low  tones  of  confidence. 
"Which  way  shall  we  go?" 


168  SHIP'S    COMTAXY 

Mr.  Sharp's  brain  reeled.  All  ways  were  alike 
to  him  in  such  company.  He  walked  beside  her 
like  a  man  in  a  dream. 

"We  want  to  g"ive  him  a  lesson,"  said  the  girl, 
presently.  '"'A  lesson  that  he  will  remember." 
"  Him  ?  "  said  the  young  man. 
"  Uncle,"  explained  the  girl.  "  It's  a  shocking 
thing,  a  wicked  thing,  to  try  and  upset  a  steady 
young  man  like  you.  Aunt  is  quite  put  out  about 
it,  and  I  feel  the  same  as  she  does." 

"  But,"  gasped  the  astonished  Mr.  Sharp,  "  how 

did  you ?  " 

"Aunt  heard  him,"  said  Miss  Garland.  "  She 
was  just  going  into  the  room  when  she  caught  a 
word  or  two,  and  she  stayed  outside  and  listened. 
You  don't  know  what  a  lot  she  thinks  of  you." 

Mr.  Sharp's  eyes  opened  wider  than  ever.  "  I 
— I  thought  she  didn't  like  me,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"  Good  gracious  !  "  said  Miss  Garland.  "  What- 
ever could  have  put  such  an  idea  as  that  into 
your  head.''  Of  course,  aunt  isn't  always  going 
to  let  uncle  see  that  she  agrees  with  him.     Still, 

as  if  anybody  could  help "  she  murmured  to 

herself. 


C( 


DUAL   CONTROL  169 

Eh?"  said  the  young  man,  in  a  trembling 


voice 


Nothing." 

Miss  Garland  walked  along  with  averted  face ; 
Mr.  Sharp,  his  pulses  bounding,  trod  on  air 
beside  her. 

"  I  thought,"  he  said,  at  last — "  I  thought  that 
Jack  Butler  was  a  favourite  of  hers  ?  " 

"  Jack  Butler !  "  said  the  girl,  in  tones  of  scorn- 
ful surprise.  "The  idea!  How  blind  men  are; 
you're  all  alike,  I  think.  You  can't  see  two 
inches  in  front  of  you.  She's  as  pleased  as 
possible  that  you  are  coming  on  Wednesday;  and 


so  am " 


Mr.  Sharp  caught  his  breath.  "Yes.?"  he 
murmured. 

"  Let's  go  down  here,"  said  Miss  Garland, 
quickly;  "down  by  the  river.  And  I'll  tell  you 
what  we  want  you  to  do." 

She  placed  her  hand  lightly  on  his  arm,  and 
Mr.  Sharp,  with  a  tremulous  smile,  obeyed.  The 
smile  faded  gradually  as  he  listened,  and  an 
expression  of  anxious  astonishment  took  its  place. 
He  shook  his  head  as  she  proceeded,  and  twice 


170  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

ventured  a  faint  suggestion  that  she  was  only 
speaking  in  jest.  Convinced  at  last,  against  his 
will,  he  walked  on  in  silent  consternation. 

'*  But,"  he  said  at  last,  as  Miss  Garland  paused 
for  breath,  "your  uncle  would  never  forgive  me. 
He'd  never  let  me  come  near  the  house  again." 

"Aunt  will  see  to  that,"  said  the  girl,  con- 
fidently. "  But,  of  course,  if  you  don't  wish  to 
please  me " 

She  turned  away,  and  Mr.  Sharp,  plucking  up 
spirit,  ventured  to  take  her  hand  and  squeeze  it. 
A  faint,  a  very  faint,  squeeze  in  return  decided 
him. 

"  It  will  come  all  right  afterwards,"  said  Miss 
Garland,  "  especially  with  the  hold  it  will  give 
aunt  over  him." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  the  young  man.  "  If  not,  I 
shall  be  far — farther  off  than  ever." 

Miss  Garland  blushed  and,  turning  her  head, 
gazed  steadily  at  the  river. 

"  Trust  me,"  she  said  at  last.  "  Me  and 
auntie." 

Mr.  Sharp  said  that  so  long  as  he  pleased  her 
nothing  else  mattered,  and,  in  the  seventh  heaven 


DUAL   CONTROL 


171 


of  delight,  paced  slowly  along  the  towpath  by 
her  side. 

"  And  you  mustn't  mind  what  auntie  and  I  say 


A   FAINT,    A   VERY   FAINT,  SQUEEZE   IN    RETURN    DECIDED   HIM 

to  you,"  said  the  girl,  continuing  her  instructions. 
"We  must  keep  up  appearances,  you  know;  and 
if  we  seem  to  be  angry,  you  must  remember  we 
are  only  pretending." 


172  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Sharp,  with  a  tender  smile,  said  that  he 
understood  perfectly. 

"And  now  I  had  better  go,"  said  Florrie, 
returning  the  smile.  "  Uncle  might  see  us 
together,  or  somebody  else  might  see  us  and  tell 
him.     Good-bye." 

She  shook  hands  and  went  off,  stopping  three 
times  to  turn  and  wave  her  hand.  In  a  state  of 
bewildered  delight  Mr.  Sharp  continued  his 
stroll,  rehearsing,  as  he  went,  the  somewhat  com- 
plicated and  voluminous  instructions  she  had 
given  him. 

By  Wednesday  evening  he  was  part-perfect, 
and,  in  a  state  of  mind  divided  between  nervous- 
ness and  exaltation,  set  out  for  Mr.  Culpepper's. 
He  found  that  gentleman,  dressed  in  his  best, 
sitting  in  an  easy-chair  with  his  hands  folded  over 
a  fancy  waistcoat  of  startling  design,  and,  placing 
a  small  box  of  small  cigars  on  his  knees,  wished 
him  the  usual  "  Happy  Returns."  The  entrance 
of  the  ladies,  who  seemed  as  though  they  had 
just  come  off  the  ice,  interrupted  Mr.  Culpepper's 
thanks. 

"  Getting    spoiled,    that's    what    I    am,"    he 


DUAL   CONTROL  173 

remarked,  playfully.     "See  this  waistcoat?    My 
old  Aunt  Elizabeth  sent  it  this  morning." 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  glanced  down 
in  warm  approval.  "  The  missis  gave  me  a  pipe, 
and  Florrie  gave  me  half  a  pound  of  tobacco. 
And  I  bought  a  bottle  of  port  wine  myself,  for 
all  of  us." 

He  pointed  to  a  bottle  that  stood  on  the  supper- 
table,  and,  the  ladies  retiring  to  the  kitchen  to 
bring  in  the  supper,  rose  and  placed  chairs.  A 
piece  of  roast  beef  was  placed  before  him,  and, 
motioning  Mr.  Sharp  to  a  seat  opposite  Florrie, 
he  began  to  carve. 

"Just  a  nice  comfortable  party,"  he  said, 
genially,  as  he  finished.  "  Help  yourself  to  the 
ale,  Bert." 

Mr,  Sharp,  ignoring  the  surprise  on  the  faces 
of  the  ladies,  complied,  and  passed  the  bottle 
to  Mr.  Culpepper.  They  drank  to  each  other, 
and  again  a  flicker  of  surprise  appeared  on  the 
faces  of  Mrs.  Culpepper  and  her  niece.  Mr. 
Culpepper,  noticing  it,  shook  his  head  waggishly 
at  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  He  drinks  it  as  if  he  likes  it,"  he  remarked. 


174  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  I  do,"  asserted  Mr.  Sharp,  and,  raising  his 
glass,  emptied  it,  and  resumed  the  attack  on  his 
plate.  Mr.  Culpepper  unscrewed  the  top  of 
another  bottle,  and  the  reckless  Mr.  Sharp,  after 
helping  himself,  made  a  short  and  feeling  speech, 
in  which  he  wished  Mr.  Culpepper  long  life  and 
happiness.  "  If  you  ain't  happy  with  Mrs. 
Culpepper,"  he  concluded,  gallantly,  "you  ought 
to  be." 

Mr.  Culpepper  nodded  and  went  on  eating  in 
silence  until,  the  keen  edge  of  his  appetite  having 
been  taken  off,  he  put  down  his  knife  and  fork 
and  waxed  sentimental. 

"  Been  married  over  thirty  years,"  he  said, 
slowly,  with  a  glance  at  his  wife,  "and  never 
regretted  it." 

"Who  hasn't?"  inquired  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  Why,  me,"  returned  the  surprised  Mr. 
Culpepper. 

Mr.  Sharp,  who  had  just  raised  his  glass,  put 
it  down  again  and  smiled.  It  was  a  faint  smile, 
but  it  seemed  to  affect  his  host  unfavourably. 

"What  are  you  smiling  at?"  he  demanded. 

"  Thoughts,"   said   Mr.    Sharp,   exchanging   a 


DUAL   CONTROL  175 

covert  glance  with  Florrie.  "  Something  you  told 
me  the  other  day." 

Mr.  Culpepper  looked  bewildered.  "  I'll  give 
you  a  penny  for  them  thoughts,"  he  said,  with 
an  air  of  jocosity. 

Mr.  Sharp  shook  his  head.  "  Money  couldn't 
buy  'em,"  he  said,  with  owlish  solemnity,  "  espec 
— especially  after  the  good  supper  you're  giving 
me." 


(( 


Bert,"  said  Mr  Culpepper,  uneasily,  as  his 
wife  sat  somewhat  erect — "  Bert,  it's  my  birthday, 
and  I  don't  grudge  nothing  to  nobody;  but  go 
easy  with  the  beer.  You  ain't  used  to  it,  you 
know." 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  beer?"  inquired 
Mr.  Sharp.  "  It  tastes  all  right — what  there  is 
of  it." 

"It  ain't  the  beer;  it's  you,"  explained  Mr. 
Culpepper. 

Mr.  Sharp  stared  at  him.  "  Have  I  said  any- 
thing I  oughtn't  to?"  he  inquired. 

Mr.  Culpepper  shook  his  head,  and,  taking  up 
a  fork  and  spoon,  began  to  serve  a  plum-pudding 
that  Miss  Garland  had  just  placed  on  the  table. 


176  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"What  was  it  you  said  I  was  to  be  sure  and 
not  tell  Mrs.  Culpepper?"  inquired  Mr.  Sharp, 
dreamily.    "  I  haven't  said  that,  have  I  ? " 

"  No !  "  snapped  the  harassed  Mr.  Culpepper, 
laying  down  the  fork  and  spoon  and  regarding 
him  ferociously.  "  I  mean,  there  wasn't  anything. 
I  mean,  I  didn't  say  so.     You're  raving." 

"  If  I  did  say  it,  I'm  sorry,"  persisted  Mr. 
Sharp.     "  I  can't  say  fairer  than  that,  can  I  ?  " 

'*  You're  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper,  trying, 
but  in  vain,  to  exchange  a  waggish  glance  with 
his  wife. 

"  I  didn't  say  it?"  inquired  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper,  still  smiling  in  a 
wooden  fashion. 

'*  I  mean  the  olker  thing?"  said  Mr.  Sharp,  in 
a  thrilling  whisper. 

"  Look  here  !  "  exclaimed  the  overwrought  Mr. 
Culpepper;  "why  not  eat  your  pudding,  and 
leave  off  talking  nonsense?  Nobody's  listening 
to  you." 

"  Speak  for  yourself,"  said  his  wife,  tartly.  "  I 
like  to  hear  Mr.  Sharp  talk.  What  was  it  he  told 
you  not  to  tell  me?" 


DUAL   CONTROL  177 

Mr.  Sharp  eyed  her  mistily.  "  I — I  can't  tell 
you,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Mrs.  Culpepper,  coax- 
ingly. 

"  Because  it — it  would  make  your  hair  stand  on 
end,"  said  the  industrious  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  Culpepper,  sharply. 

"  He  said  it  would,"  said  Mr.  Sharp,  indicating 
his    host   with    his    spoon,    "  and    he    ought — to 

know Who's    that    kicking    me    under   the 

table  ? " 

Mr.  Culpepper,  shivering  with  wrath  and  dread, 
struggled  for  speech.  "  You'd  better  get  home, 
Bert,"  he  said  at  last.  "  You're  not  yourself. 
There's  nobody  kicking  you  under  the  table. 
You  don't  know  what  you  are  saying.  You've 
been  dreaming  things.  I  never  said  anything  of 
the  kind." 

"  Memory's  gone,"  said  Mr.  Sharp,  shaking 
his  head  at  him.  "  Clean  gone.  Don't  you 
remember " 

"  NO  !  "  roared  Mr.  Culpepper. 

Mr.  Sharp  sat  blinking  at  him,  but  his  mis- 
givings vanished  before  the  glances  of  admiring 

N 


178  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

devotion  which  Miss  Garland  was  sending  in  his 
direction.  He  construed  them  rightly  not  only 
as  a  reward,  but  as  an  incentive  to  further  efforts. 
In  the  midst  of  an  impressive  silence  Mrs. 
Culpepper  collected  the  plates  and,  producing  a 
dish  of  fruit  from  the  sideboard,  placed  it  upon 
the  table. 

"  Help  yourself,  Mr.  Sharp,"  she  said,  pushing 
the  bottle  of  port  towards  him. 

Mr.  Sharp  complied,  having  first,  after  several 
refusals,  put  a  little  into  the  ladies'  glasses,  and 
a  lot  on  the  tablecloth  near  Mr.  Culpepper. 
Then,  after  a  satisfying  sip  or  two,  he  rose  with 
a  bland  smile  and  announced  his  intention  of 
making  a  speech. 

"  But  you've  made  one,"  said  his  host,  in  tones 
of  fierce  expostulation. 

"  That — that  was  las'  night,"  said  Mr.  Sharp. 
"  This  is  to-night — your  birthday." 

"Well,  we  don't  want  any  more,"  said  Mr. 
Culpepper. 

Mr.  Sharp  hesitated.  "  It's  only  his  fun,"  he 
said,  looking  round  and  raising  his  glass.  "  He's 
afraid  I'm  going  to  praise  him  up — praise  him 


DUAL   CONTROL  179 

up.  Here's  to  my  old  friend,  Mr.  Culpepper  : 
one  of  the  best.  We  all  have  our — faults,  and 
he  has  his — has  his.    Where  was  I?" 

"  Sit  down,"  growled  Mr.  Culpepper. 

"  Talking  about  my  husband's  faults,"  said  his 
wife. 

"  So  I  was,"  said  Mr.  Sharp,  putting  his  hand 
to  his  brow.  "  Don't  be  alarm',"  he  continued, 
turning  to  his  host;  "nothing  to  be  alarm'  about. 
I'm  not  going  to  talk  about  'em.  Not  so  silly  as 
that,  I  hope.    I  don't  want  spoil  your  life." 

"  Sit  down,"  repeated  Mr.  Culpepper. 

"  You're  very  anxious  he  should  sit  down,"  said 
his  wife,  sharply. 

"  No,  I'm  not,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper;  "  only  he's 
talking  nonsense," 

Mr.  Sharp,  still  on  his  legs,  took  another  sip 
of  port  and,  avoiding  the  eye  of  Mr.  Culpepper, 
which  was  showing  signs  of  incipient  inflamma- 
tion, looked  for  encouragement  to  Miss  Garland. 

"  He's  a  man  we  all  look  up  to  and  respect," 
he  continued.  "  If  he  does  go  off  to  London 
every  now  and  then  on  business,  that's  his  look- 
out.    My  idea  is  he  always  ought  to  take  Mrs. 

N  2 


180  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Culpepper  with  him.  He'd  have  pleasure  of  her 
company  and,  same  time,  he'd  be  money  in  pocket 
by  it.  And  why  shouldn't  she  go  to  music-halls 
sometimes?     Why   shouldn't   she " 

*'  You  get  off  home,"  said  the  purple  Mr. 
Culpepper,  rising  and  hammering  the  table  with 
his  fist.  "  Get  off  home ;  and  if  you  so  much  as 
show  your  face  inside  this  'ouse  again  there'll  be 
trouble.     Go  on.     Out  you  go  !  " 

"  Home }  "  repeated  Mr.  Sharp,  sitting  down 
suddenly.    *'  Won't  go  home  till  morning." 

"  Oh,  we'll  soon  see  about  that,"  said  Mr. 
Culpepper,  taking  him  by  the  shoulders.  "  Come 
on,  now." 

Mr.  Sharp  subsided  lumpishly  into  his  chair, 
and  Mr.  Culpepper,  despite  his  utmost  efforts, 
failed  to  move  him.  The  two  ladies  exchanged 
a  glance,  and  then,  with  their  heads  in  the  air, 
sailed  out  of  the  room,  the  younger  pausing  at 
the  door  to  bestow  a  mirthful  glance  upon  Mr. 
Sharp  ere  she  disappeared. 

"Come — out,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper,  panting. 

"You  trying  tickle  me?"  inquired  Mr.  Sharp. 

"  You  get  off  home,"  said  the  other.  "  You've 
been  doing  nothing  but  make  mischief  ever  since 


DUAL   CONTROL  181 

you  came  in.  What  put  such  things  into  your 
silly  head  I  don't  know.  I  shall  never  hear  the 
end  of  'em  as  long  as  I  live." 

"Silly  head?"  repeated  Mr.  Sharp,  with  an 
alarming  change  of  manner.    "  Say  it  again." 

Mr.  Culpepper  repeated  it  with  gusto. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Sharp.  He  seized  him 
suddenly  and,  pushing  him  backwards  into  his 
easy-chair,  stood  over  him  with  such  hideous 
contortions  of  visage  that  Mr.  Culpepper  was 
horrified.  "  Now  you  sit  there  and  keep  quite 
still,"  he  said,  with  smouldering  ferocity.  "  Where 
did  you  put  carving-knife?  Eh?  Where's 
carving-knife  ? " 

"  No,  no,  Bert,"  said  Mr.  Culpepper,  clutching 
at  his  sleeve.  "I — I  was  only  joking.  You — 
you  ain't  quite  yourself,  Bert." 

"JVkatf*  demanded  the  other,  rolling  his 
eyes,   and  clenching  his  fists. 

"  I — I  mean  you've  improved,"  said  Mr.  Cul- 
pepper, hurriedly.     "Wonderful,  you  have." 

Mr.  Sharp's  countenance  cleared  a  little. 
"Let's  make  a  night  of  it,"  he  said.  "Don't 
move,  whatever  you  do." 

He  closed  the  door  and,  putting  the  wine  and 


182  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

a  couple  of  glasses  on  the  mantelpiece,  took  a 
chair  by  Mr.  Culpepper  and  prepared  to  spend 
the  evening.  His  instructions  were  too  specific 
to  be  disregarded,  and  three  times  he  placed  his 
arm  about  the  waist  of  the  frenzied  Mr.  Culpepper 
and  took  him  for  a  lumbering  dance  up  and  down 
the  room.  In  the  intervals  between  dances  he 
regaled  him  with  interminable  extracts  from 
speeches  made  at  the  debating  society  and  recita- 
tions learned  at  school.  Suggestions  relating  to 
bed,  thrown  out  by  Mr.  Culpepper  from  time  to 
time,  were  repelled  with  scorn.  And  twice,  in 
deference  to  Mr.  Sharp's  desires,  he  had  to  join 
in  the  chorus  of  a  song. 

Ten  o'clock  passed,  and  the  hands  of  the  clock 
crawled  round  to  eleven.  The  hour  struck,  and, 
as  though  in  answer,  the  door  opened  and  the 
agreeable  face  of  Florrie  Garland  appeared. 
Behind  her,  to  the  intense  surprise  of  both  gentle- 
men, loomed  the  stalwart  figure  of  Mr.  Jack 
Butler. 

"  I  thought  he  might  be  useful,  uncle,"  said 
Miss  Garland,  coming  into  the  room.  "Auntie 
wouldn't  let  me  come  down  before." 

Mr.   Sharp  rose  in  a  dazed  fashion  and  saw 


DUAL   CONTROL 


183 


Mr.  Culpepper  grasp  Mr.  Butler  by  the  hand. 
More  dazed  still,  he  felt  the  large  and  clumsy 
hand  of  Mr.  Butler  take  him  by  the  collar  and 
propel  him  with  some  violence  along  the  small 
passage,  while  another  hand,  which  he  dimly 
recognized  as  belonging  to  Mr.  Culpepper,  was 
inserted  in  the  small  of  his  back.  Then  the  front 
door  opened  and  he  was  thrust  out  into  the  night. 
The  door  closed,  and  a  low  feminine  laugh 
sounded  from  a  window  above. 


HE   FELT  THE   LARGE   AND    CLUMSY    HAND  OF   MR.    BUTLER 
TAKE   HIM    BY  THE  COLLAR 


IX 
SKILLED   ASSISTANCE 

The  night-watchman,  who  had  left  his  seat  on 
the  jetty  to  answer  the  gate-bell,  came  back  with 
disgust  written  on  a  countenance  only  too  well 
designed  to  express  it. 

"  If  she's  been  up  'ere  once  in  the  last  week 
to  know  whether  the  Silvia  is  up  she's  been  four 
or  five  times,"  he  growled.  "  He's  forty-seven  if 
he's  a  day;  'is  left  leg  is  shorter  than  'is  right, 
and  he  talks  with  a  stutter.  When  she's  with  'im 
you'd  think  as  butter  wouldn't  melt  in  'er  mouth; 
but  the  way  she  talked  to  me  just  now  you'd  think 
I  was  paid  a-purpose  to  wait  on  her.  I  asked  'er 
at  last  wot  she  thought  I  was  here  for,  and  she 
said  she  didn't  know,  and  nobody  else  neither. 
And  afore  she  went  off  she  told  the  potman 
from  the  'Albion,'  wot  was  listening,  that  I  was 
known    all    over    Wapping    as    the     Sleeping 

Beauty. 

184 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  185 

"  She  ain't  the  fust  I've  'ad  words  with,  not  by 
a  lot.  They're  all  the  same;  they  all  start  in  a 
nice,  kind,  soapy  sort  o'  way,  and,  as  soon  as  they 
don't  get  wot  they  want,  fly  into  a  temper  and 
ask  me  who  I  think  I  am.  I  told  one  woman 
once  not  to  be  silly,  and  I  shall  never  forget  it  as 
long  as  I  live — never.  For  all  I  know,  she's 
wearing  a  bit  o'  my  'air  in  a  locket  to  this  day,  and 
very  likely  boasting  that  I  gave  it  to  her. 

"  Talking  of  her  reminds  me  of  another  woman. 
There  was  a  Cap'n  Pinner,  used  to  trade  between 
'ere  and  Hull  on  a  schooner  named  the  Snipe. 
Nice  little  craft  she  was,  and  'e  was  a  very  nice 
feller.  Many  and  many's  the  pint  we've  'ad  to- 
gether, turn  and  turn-about,  and  the  on'y  time  we 
ever  'ad  a  cross  word  was  when  somebody  hid  his 
clay  pipe  in  my  beer  and  'e  was  foolish  enough 
to  think  I'd  done  it. 

"  He  'ad  a  nice  little  cottage,  'e  told  me  about, 
near  Hull,  and  'is  wife's  father,  a  man  of  pretty 
near  seventy,  lived  with  'em.  Well-off  the  old 
man  was,  and,  as  she  was  his  only  daughter,  they 
looked  to  'ave  all  his  money  when  he'd  gorn. 
Their  only  fear  was  that  'e  might  marry  agin,  and. 


186  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

judging  from  wot  'e  used  to  tell  me  about  the  old 
man,  I  thought  it  more  than  likely. 

"'  *  If  it  wasn't  for  my  missis  he'd  ha'  been 
married  over  and  over  agin,'  he  ses  one  day. 
■  He's  like  a  child  playing  with  gunpowder.' 

"  '  'Ow  would  it  be  to  let  'im  burn  hisself  a  bit  ?  ' 
I  ses. 

"  *  If  you  was  to  see  some  o'  the  gunpowder 
he  wants  to  play  with,  you  wouldn't  talk  like  that,' 
ses  the  cap'n.  *  You'd  know  better.  The  on'y 
thing  is  to  keep  'em  apart,  and  my  pore  missis  is 
wore  to  a  shadder  a-doing  of  it.' 

"  It  was  just  about  a  month  arter  that  that  he 
brought  the  old  man  up  to  London  with  'im. 
They  'ad  some  stuff  to  put  out  at  Smith's  Wharf, 
t'other  side  of  the  river,  afore  they  came  to  us, 
and  though  they  was  on'y  there  four  or  five  days, 
it  was  long  enough  for  that  old  man  to  get  into 
trouble. 

"  The  skipper  told  me  about  it  ten  minutes  arter 
they  was  made  snug  in  the  inner  berth  'ere.  He 
walked  up  and  down  like  a  man  with  a  raging 
toothache,  and  arter  follering  'im  up  and  down 
the  wharf  till  I  was  tired  out,  I  discovered  that 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  187 

'is  father-in-law  'ad  got  'imself  mixed  up  with  a 
widder-woman  ninety  years  old  and  weighinfr 
twenty  stun.  Arter  he  'ad  cooled  down  a  bit,  and 
I  'ad  given  'im  a  few  little  pats  on  the  shoulder,  'e 
made  it  forty-eight  years  old  and  fourteen  stone. 

" '  He's  getting  ready  to  go  and  meet  her  now,' 
he  ses,  'and  wot  my  missis'll  say  to  me,  I  don't 
know.' 

"  His  father-in-law  came  up  on  deck  as  'e 
spoke,  and  began  to  brush  'imself  all  over  with  a 
clothes-brush.  Nice-looking  little  man  'e  was, 
with  blue  eyes,  and  a  little  white  beard,  cut  to  a 
point,  and  dressed  up  in  a  serge  suit  with  brass 
buttons,  and  a  white  yachting  cap.  His  real  name 
was  Mr.  Finch,  but  the  skipper  called  'im  Uncle 
Dick,  and  he  took  such  a  fancy  to  me  that  in  five 
minutes  I  was  calling  'im  Uncle  Dick  too. 

Time   I   was  moving,'   he   ses,  by   and  by. 
'  I've  got  an  app'intment.' 

"  '  Oh  !  who  with  ? '  ses  the  skipper,  pretending 
not  to  know. 

"  '  Friend  o'  mine,  in  the  army,'  ses  the  old  man, 
with  a  wink  at  me.     '  So  long.' 

"  He  went  off  as  spry  as  a  boy,  and  as  soon  as 


188  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

he'd  gorn  the  skipper  started  walking  back'ards 
and  for'ards  agin,  and  raving, 

" '  Let's  'ope  as  he's  on'y  amusing  'imself ,'  I 
ses. 

"'Wait  till  you  see  'er,'  ses  the  skipper;  'then 
you  won't  talk  foolishness.' 

"  As  it  'appened  she  came  back  with  Uncle  Dick 
that  evening,  to  see  'im  safe,  and  I  see  at  once 
wot  sort  of  a  woman  it  was.  She  'adn't  been  on 
the  wharf  five  minutes  afore  you'd  ha'  thought  it 
belonged  to  'er,  and  when  she  went  and  sat  on  the 
schooner  it  seemed  to  be  about  'arf  its  size.  She 
called  the  skipper  Tom,  and  sat  there  as  cool  as 
you  please  holding  Uncle  Dick's  'and,  and 
patting  it. 

"  I  took  the  skipper  round  to  the  '  Bull's 
Head '  arter  she  'ad  gorn,  and  I  wouldn't  let  'im 
say  a  word  until  he  had  'ad  two  pints.  He  felt 
better  then,  and  some  o'  the  words  'e  used  sur- 
prised me. 

"  '  Wot's  to  be  done  ? '  he  ses  at  last.  '  You 
see  'ow  it  is,  Bill.' 

"  '  Can't  you  get  'im  away  ? '  I  ses.  '  Who  is 
she,  and  wot's  'er  name? ' 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  189 

"  '  Her  name/  ses  the  skipper,  '  her  name  is  Jane 
Maria  Elizabeth  Muffit,  and  she  lives  over  at 
Rotherhithe.' 

She's  very  likely  married  already,'  I  ses. 
Her  'usband   died   ten  years   ago,'   ses  the 
skipper;   'passed  away  in  'is  sleep.     Overlaid, 
I  should  say.' 

"  He  sat  there  smoking,  and  I  sat  there  think- 
ing. Twice  'e  spoke  to  me,  and  I  held  my  'and 
up  and  said  '  H'sh.'  Then  I  turned  to  'im  all  of 
a  sudden  and  pinched  his  arm  so  hard  he  nearly 
dropped  'is  beer. 

"  '  Is  Uncle  Dick  a  nervous  man.'^ '  I  ses. 

" '  Nervous  is  no  name  for  it,'  he  ses,  staring. 

" '  Very  good,  then,'  I  ses.  '  I'll  send  'er 
husband   to   frighten   'im.' 

"  The  skipper  looked  at  me  very  strange.  '  Yes/ 
he  ses.     '  Yes,  yes.' 

" '  Frighten  'im  out  of  'is  boots,  and  make  him 
give  'er  up,'  I  ses.  '  Or  better  still,  get  'im  to  run 
away  and  go  into  hiding  for  a  time.  That  'ud  be 
best,  in  case  'e  found  out.' 

"  Found  out  wot  f '  ses  the  skipper. 

"  '  Found  out  it  wasn't  'er  husband,'  I  ses. 


190  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Bill,'  ses  the  skipper,  very  earnest,  '  this  is 
the  fust  beer  I've  'ad  to-day,  and  I  wish  I  could 
say  the  same  for  you.' 

"I  didn't  take  'im  at  fust,  but  when  I  did  I 
gave  a  laugh  that  brought  in  two  more  customers 
to  see  wot  was  the  matter.  Then  I  took  'im  by 
the  arm — arter  a  little  trouble — and,  taking 
'im  back  to  the  wharf,  explained  my  meaning 
to  *im. 

" '  I  know  the  very  man,'  I  ses.  '  He  comes 
into  a  public-'ouse  down  my  way  sometimes. 
Artful  'Arry,  he's  called,  and,  for  'arf-a-quid,  say, 
he'd  frighten  Uncle  Dick  'arf  to  death.  He's  big 
and  ugly,  and  picks  up  a  living  by  selling  meer- 
schaum pipes  he's  found  to  small  men  wot  don't 
want  'em.     Wonderful  gift  o'  the  gab  he's  got.' 

"  We  went  acrost  to  the  '  Albion  '  to  talk  it  over. 
There's  several  bars  there,  and  the  landlady 
always  keeps  cotton-wool  in  'er  ears,  not  'aving 
been  brought  up  to  the  public  line.  The  skipper 
told  me  all  'e  knew  about  Mrs.  Muffit,  and  we 
arranged  that  Artful  'Arry  should  come  down  at 
seven  o'clock  next  night,  if  so  be  as  I  could  find 
'im  in  time. 


SKILLED    ASSISTANCE  191 

"  I  got  up  early  the  next  arternoon,  and  as  it 
'appened,  he  came  into  the  '  Duke  of  Edinburgh ' 
five  minutes  arter  I  got  there.  Nasty  temper  'e 
was  in,  too.  He'd  just  found  a  meerschaum  pipe, 
as  usual,  and  the  very  fust  man  'e  tried  to  sell  it 
to  said  that  it  was  the  one  'e  lost  last  Christmas, 
and  gave  'im  a  punch  in  the  jaw  for  it. 

"  '  He's  a  thief,  that's  wot  he  is/  ses  'Arry ;  '  and 
I  'ate  thiefs.  'Ow's  a  honest  tradesman  to  make 
a  living  when  there's  people  like  that  about? ' 

"  I  stood  'im  'arf  a  pint,  and  though  it  hurt  'im 
awful  to  drink  it,  he  said  'ed  'ave  another  just 
to  see  if  he  could  bear  the  pain.  Arter  he  had 
'ad  three  'e  began  for  to  take  a  more  cheerful  view 
o'  life,  and  told  me  about  a  chap  that  spent  three 
weeks  in  the  London  'Orsepittle  for  calling  'im 
a  liar. 

" '  Treat  me  fair,'  he  ses,  '  and  I'll  treat  other 
people  fair.  I  never  broke  my  word  without  a 
good  reason  for  it,  and  that's  more  than  everybody 
can  say.  If  I  told  you  the  praise  I've  'ad  from 
some  people  you  wouldn't  believe  it.' 

"  I  let  'im  go  on  till  he  'ad  talked  'imself  into 
a  good  temper,  and  then  I  told  'im  of  the  little 


192  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

job  I  'ad  got  for  'im.  He  listened  quiet  till  I 
'ad  finished,  and  then  he  shook  'is  'ead. 

" '  It  ain't  in  my  line,'  he  ses. 

"  'There's  'arf  a  quid  'anging  to  it,'  I  ses. 

"  'Arry  shook  his  'ead  agin.  '  'Tain't  enough, 
mate,'  he  ses.  '  If  you  was  to  make  it  a  quid  I 
won't  say  as  I  mightn't  think  of  it.' 

"  I  'ad  told  the  skipper  that  it  might  cost  'im 
a  quid,  so  I  knew  'ow  far  I  could  go ;  and  at  last, 
arter  'Arry  'ad  got  as  far  as  the  door  three  times, 
I  gave  way. 

" '  And  I'll  'ave  it  now,'  he  ses,  '  to  prevent 
mistakes.' 

" '  No,  'Arry,'  I  ses,  very  firm.  '  Besides,  it 
ain't  my  money,  you  see.' 

" '  You  mean  to  say  you  don't  trust  me,'  'e  ses, 
firing  up. 

" '  I'd  trust  you  with  untold  gold,'  I  ses,  *  but 
not  with  a  real  quid;  you're  too  fond  of  a  joke, 
'Arry.' 

"  We  'ad  another  long  argyment  about  it,  and 
I  had  to  tell  'im  plain  at  last  that  when  I  wanted 
to  smell  'is  fist,  I'd  say  so. 

"  '  You  turn  up  at  the  wharf  at  five  minutes  to 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  193 

seven,'  I  ses,  'and  I'll  give  you  ten  bob  of  it; 
arter  you've  done  your  business  I'll  give  you  the 
other.  Come  along  quiet,  and  you'll  see  me 
waiting  at  the  gate  for  you.' 

"  He  gave  way  arter  a  time,  and,  fust  going 
'ome  for  a  cup  o'  tea,  I  went  on  to  the  wharf  to 
tell  the  skipper  'ow  things  stood. 

" '  It  couldn't  'ave  'appened  better,'  he  ses. 
'  Uncle  Dick  is  sure  to  be  aboard  at  that  time,  'cos 
'e's  going  acrost  the  water  at  eight  o'clock  to  pay 
'er  a  visit.  And  all  the  hands  '11  be  away.  I've 
made  sure  of  that.' 

"  He  gave  me  the  money  for  Artful  'Arry  in 
two  'arf-suverins,  and  then  we  went  over  to  the 
'  Albion '  for  a  quiet  glass  and  a  pipe,  and  to  wait 
for  seven  o'clock. 

"  I  left  'im  there  at  ten  minutes  to,  and  at  five 
minutes  to,  punctual  to  the  minute,  I  see  'Arry 
coming  along  swinging  a  thick  stick  with  a  knob 
on  the  end  of  it. 

"  '  Where's  the  'arf  thick-un  ? '  he  ses,  looking 
round  to  see  that  the  coast  was  clear. 

'*  I  gave  it  to  'im,  and  arter  biting  it  in  three 
places  and  saying  it  was  a  bit  short  in  weight  he 


194  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

dropped  it  in  'is  weskit-pocket  and  said  'e  was 
ready. 

"  I  left  'im  there  for  a  minute  while  I  went  and 
'ad  a  look  round.  The  deck  of  the  Snipe  was 
empty,  but  I  could  'ear  Uncle  Dick  down  in  the 
cabin  singing;  and,  arter  listening  for  a  few 
seconds  to  make  sure  that  it  was  singing,  I  went 
back  and  beckoned  to  'Arry. 

" '  He's  down  in  the  cabin,'  I  ses,  pointing. 
'  Don't  overdo  it,  'Arry,  and  at  the  same  time  don't 
underdo  it,  as  you  might  say.' 

"'I  know  just  wot  you  want,'  ses  'Arry,  'and 
if  you'd  got  the  'art  of  a  man  in  you,  you'd  make 
it  two  quids.' 

*  He  climbed  on  board  and  stood  listening  for 
a  moment  at  the  companion,  and  then  'e  went 
down,  while  I  went  off  outside  the  gate,  so  as  to 
be  out  of  earshot  in  case  Uncle  Dick  called  for 
me.  I  knew  that  I  should  'ear  all  about  wot  went 
on  arterwards — and  I  did. 

"  Artful  'Arry  went  down  the  companion-ladder 
very  quiet,  and  then  stood  at  the  foot  of  it  looking 
at  Uncle  Dick.  He  looked  'im  up  and  down  and 
all  over,  and  then  'e  gave  a  fierce,  loud  cough. 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  195 


(C   < 


((  c 


Good-evening,'  he  ses. 

Good-evening/  ses   Uncle   Dick,  staring  at 
'im.     'Did  you  want  to  see  anybody?' 

" '  I  did,'  ses  'Arry.  '  I  do.  And  when  I  see 
'im  I'm  going  to  put  my  arms  round  'im  and  twist 
'is  neck ;  then  I'm  going  to  break  every  bone  in  'is 
body,  and  arter  that  I'm  going  to  shy  'im  over- 
board to  pison  the  fishes  with.' 

" '  Dear  me  !  '  ses  Uncle  Dick,  shifting  away  as 
far  as  'e  could. 

" '  I  ain't  'ad  a  wink  o'  sleep  for  two  nights,' 
ses  'Arry — '  not  ever  since  I  'card  of  it.  When  I 
think  of  all  I've  done  for  that  woman — working 
for  'er,  and  such-like — my  blood  boils.  When  I 
think  of  her  passing  'erself  off  as  a  widder — my 
widder — and  going  out  with  another  man,  I  don't 
know  wot  to  do  with  myself.' 

"  Uncle  Dick  started  and  turned  pale.  Fust 
'e  seemed  as  if  'e  was  going  to  speak,  and  then 
'e  thought  better  of  it.  He  sat  staring  at  'Arry 
as  if  'e  couldn't  believe  his  eyes. 

"'Wot  would  you  do  with  a  man  like  that?' 
ses  'Arry.  '  I  ask  you,  as  man  to  man,  wot  would 
you  do  to  'im? ' 


O  2 


196  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  *  PVaps — p'r'aps  'e  didn't  know,'  ses  Uncle 
Dick,  stammering. 

'' '  Didn't  know  !  '  ses  'Arry.  '  Don't  care,  you 
mean.  We've  got  a  nice  little  'ome,  and,  just  be- 
cause I've  'ad  to  leave  it  for  a  bit  and  lay  low  for 
knifing  a  man,  she  takes  advantage  of  it.  And  it 
ain't  the  fust  time,  neither.     Wot's  the  matter?' 

"  '  Touch — touch  of  ague ;  I  get  it  sometimes,' 
ses  Uncle  Dick. 

" '  I  want  to  see  this  man  Finch,'  ses  'Arry, 
shaking  'is  knobby  stick.  '  Muffit,  my  name  is, 
and  I  want  to  tell  'im  so.' 

"  Uncle  Dick  nearly  shook  'imself  on  to  the 
floor. 

" '  I— I'll  go  and  see  if  'e's  in  the  fo'c'sle,'  he 
ses  at  last. 

" '  He  ain't  there,  'cos  I've  looked,'  ses  'Arry, 
'arf  shutting  'is  eyes  and  looking  at  'im  hard. 
'  Wot  might  your  name  be  ? ' 

" '  My  name's  Finch,'  ses  Uncle  Dick,  putting 
out  his  'ands  to  keep  him  off,  '  but  I  thought  she 
was  a  widder.  She  told  me  her  'usband  died  ten 
years  ago;  she's  deceived  me  as  well  as  you.  I 
wouldn't  ha'  dreamt  of  taking  any  notice  of  'er  if 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  197 

I'd  known.  Truth,  I  wouldn't.  I  shouldn't  ha' 
dreamt  of  such  a  thing.' 

"  Artful  'Arry  played  with  'is  stick  a  little,  and 
stood  looking  at  'im  with  a  horrible  look  on  'is 
face. 

" '  'Ow  am  I  to  know  you're  speaking  the 
truth  ? '  he  ses,  very  slow.  '  Eh  f  'Ow  can  you 
prove  it } ' 

"  '  If  it  was  the  last  word  I  was  to  speak  I'd  say 
the  same,'  ses  Uncle  Dick.  '  I  tell  you,  I  am  as 
innercent  as  a  new-born  babe.' 

"  '  If  that's  true,'  ses  'Arry,  '  she's  deceived  both 
of  us.  Now,  if  I  let  you  go  will  you  go  straight 
off  and  bring  her  'ere  to  me  ?  ' 

" '  I  will,'  ses  Uncle  Dick,  jumping  up. 

" '  'Arf  a  mo,'  ses  'Arry,  holding  up  'is  stick 
very  quick.  '  One  thing  is,  if  you  don't  come 
back,  I'll  'ave  you  another  day.  I  can't  make  up 
my  mind  wot  to  do.  I  can't  think — I  ain't  tasted 
food  for  two  days.  If  I  'ad  any  money  in  my 
pocket  I'd  'ave  a  bite  while  you're  gone.' 

'"Why  not  get  something?'  ses  Uncle  Dick, 
putting  his  'and  in  his  pocket,  in  a  great  'urry  to 
please  him,  and  pulling  out  some  silver. 


198  SHIP'S   COMPANY 


(I  i 


'Arry  said  'e  would,  and  then  he  stood  on  one 
side  to  let  'im  pass,  and  even  put  the  knobby  stick 
under  'im  to  help  'im  up  the  companion-ladder. 

"  Uncle  Dick  passed  me  two  minutes  arterw^ards 
without  a  word,  and  set  off  down  the  road  as  fast 
as  'is  little  legs  'ud  carry  'im.  I  watched  'im  out 
o'  sight,  and  then  I  went  on  board  the  schooner  to 
see  how  'Arry  'ad  got  on. 

""Arry,'  I  ses,  when  he  'ad  finished,  'you're 
a  masterpiece  ! ' 

"  '  I  know  I  am,'  he  ses.  '  Wot  about  that  other 
'arf-quid?' 

" '  Here  it  is,'  I  ses,  giving  it  to  'im.  '  Fair 
masterpiece,  that's  wot  you  are.  They  may  well 
call  you  Artful.     Shake  'ands.' 

"  I  patted  'im  on  the  shoulder  arter  we  'ad  shook 
'ands,  and  we  stood  there  smiling  at  each  other 
and  paying  each  other  compliments. 

" '  Fancy  'em  sitting  'ere  and  waiting  for  you  to 
come  back  from  that  bite,'  I  ses. 

"*I  ought  to  'ave  'ad  more  off  of  him,'  ses 
'Arry.  '  'Owever,  it  can't  be  helped.  I  think  I'll 
'ave  a  lay  down  for  a  bit ;  I'm  tired.' 

"  *  Better  be  off,'  I  ses,  shaking  my  'ead.   '  Time 


SKILLED  ASSISTANCE  199 

passes,  and  they  might  come  back  afore  you 
think/ 

"  '  Well,  wot  of  it? '  ses  'Arry. 

"  '  Wot  of  it  ? '  I  ses.  '  Why,  it  'ud  spoil  every- 
thing.    It  'ud  be  blue  ruin.' 

"  '  Are  you  sure } '  ses  'Arry. 

"  '  Sartain,'  I  ses. 

"  *  Well,  make  it  five  quid,  and  I'll  go,  then,' 
he  ses,  sitting  down  agin. 

"  I  couldn't  believe  my  ears  at  fust,  but  when 
I  could  I  drew  myself  up  and  told  'im  wot  1 
thought  of  'im;  and  he  sat  there  and  laughed  at 
me. 

"  *  Why,  you  called  me  a  masterpiece  just  now,' 
he  ses.  '  I  shouldn't  be  much  of  a  masterpiece 
if  I  let  a  chance  like  this  slip.  Why,  I  shouldn't 
be  able  to  look  myself  in  the  face.  Where's  the 
skipper? ' 

" '  Sitting  in  the  "Albion  ",'  I  ses,  'arf  choking. 

*' '  Go  and  tell  'im  it's  five  quid,'  ses  'Arry.  '  I 
don't  mean  five  more,  on'y  four.  Some  people 
would  ha'  made  it  five,  but  I  like  to  deal  square 
and  honest.' 

**  I  run  over  for  the  skipper  in  a  state  of  mind 


200  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

that  don't  bear  thinking  of,  and  he  came  back  with 
me,  'arf  crazy.  When  we  got  to  the  cabin  we 
found  the  door  was  locked,  and,  arter  the  skipper 
'ad  told  Artful  wot  he'd  do  to  'im  if  he  didn't 
open  it,  he  'ad  to  go  on  deck  and  talk  to  'im 
through  the  skylight. 

" '  If  you  ain't  off  of  my  ship  in  two  twos,'  he 
se5,  '  I'll  fetch  a  policeman.' 

"'You  go  and  fetch  four  pounds,'  ses  'Arry; 
'that's  wot  I'm  waiting  for,  not  a  policeman. 
Didn't  the  watchman  tell  you  ? ' 

" '  The  bargain  was  for  one  pound,'  ses  the 
skipper,  'ardly  able  to  speak. 

"'Well,  you  tell  that  to  the  policeman,'  ses 
Artful  'Arry. 

"  It  was  no  use,  he'd  got  us  every  way ;  and  at 
last  the  skipper  turns  out  'is  pockets,  and  he  ses, 
'  Look  'ere,'  he  ses,  '  I've  got  seventeen  and  ten- 
pence  ha'penny.     Will  you  go  if  I  give  you  that.^ ' 

"  '  'Ow  much  has  the  watchman  got? '  ses  'Arry. 
'  His  lodger  lost  'is  purse  the  other  day.' 

"  I'd  got  two  and  ninepence,  as  it  'appened,  and 
then  there  was  more  trouble  because  the  skipper 
wouldn't  give  'im  the  money  till  he  'ad  gone,  and 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  201 

'e  wouldn't  go  till  he  'ad  got  it.  The  skipper  gave 
way  at  last,  and  as  soon  as  he  'ad  got  it  'Arry  ses, 
'  Now  'op  off  and  borrer  the  rest,  and  look  slippy 
about  it.' 

"  I  put  one  hand  over  the  skipper's  mouth  fust, 
and  then,  finding  that  was  no  good,  I  put  the 
other.  It  was  no  good  wasting  bad  langwidge  on 
'Arry. 

"  I  pacified  the  skipper  at  last,  and  arter  'Arry 
'ad  swore  true  'e'd  go  when  'e'd  got  the  money, 
the  skipper  rushed  round  to  try  and  raise  it.  It's 
a  difficult  job  at  the  best  o'  times,  and  I  sat  there 
on  the  skylight  shivering  and  wondering  whether 
the  skipper  or  Mrs.  Muffit  would  turn  up  fust. 

"  Hours  seemed  to  pass  away,  and  then  I  see 
the  wicket  in  the  gate  open,  and  the  skipper  come 
through.  He  jumped  on  deck  without  a  word, 
and  then,  going  over  to  the  skylight,  'anded  down 
the  money  to  'Arry. 

" '  Right-o,'  ses  'Arry.  '  It  on'y  shows  you  wot 
you  can  do  by  trying.' 

"  He  unlocked  the  door  and  came  up  on  deck, 
looking  at  us  very  careful,  and  playing  with  'is 
stick. 


202  SHIP'S   COMPANY 


(( ( 


You've  got  your  money,'  ses  the  skipper; 
'  now  go  as  quick  as  you  can.' 

"'Arry  smiled  and  nodded  at  him.  Then  he 
stepped  on  to  the  wharf,  and  was  just  moving  to 
the  gate,  with  us  follering,  when  the  wicket  opened 
and  in  came  Mrs.  Muffit  and  Uncle  Dick. 

"  '  There  he  is,'  ses  Uncle  Dick.  '  That's  the 
man ! ' 

"  Mrs.  Muffit  walked  up  to  'im,  and  my  'art 
a'most  stopped  beating.  Her  face  was  the  colour 
of  beet-root  with  temper,  and  you  could  'ave  heard 
her  breath  fifty  yards  away. 

Ho  ! '  she  says,  planting  'erself  in  front  of 
Artful  'Arry,  '  so  you're  the  man  that  ses  you're 
my  'usband,  are  you  ? ' 

That's  all  right,'  ses  'Arry,  *  it's  all  a  mistake.' 

Mistake  ? '  ses  Mrs.  Muffit. 

Mistake  o'  Bill's,'  ses  'Arry,  pointing  to  me. 
*  I  told  'im  I  thought  'e  was  wrong,  but  'e  would 
'ave  it.     I've  got  a  bad  memory,  so  I  left  it  to 


((   c 


(e  ( 


im. 


Ho !  '  ses  Mrs.  Muffit,  taking  a  deep  breath. 
*  Ho  !  I  thought  as  much.  Wot  'ave  you  got  to 
say  for  yourself — eh?' 


SKILLED   ASSISTANCE  203 


(( 


She  turned  on  me  like  a  wild  cat,  with  her 
'ands  in  front  of  her.  I've  been  scratched  once  in 
my  life,  and  I  wasn't  going  to  be  agin,  so,  fixing 
my  eyes  on  'er,  I  just  stepped  back  a  bit,  ready 
for  'er.  So  long  as  I  kept  my  eye  fixed  on  'ers 
she  couldn't  do  anything.  I  knew  that.  Un- 
fortunately I  stepped  back  just  a  inch  too  far,  and 
next  moment  I  went  over  back'ards  in  twelve  foot 
of  water. 

"Arter  all,  p'r'aps  it  was  the  best  thing  that 
could  have  'appened  to  me;  it  stopped  her  talk- 
ing. It  ain't  the  fust  time  I've  'ad  a  wet  jacket; 
but  as  for  the  skipper,  and  pore  Uncle  Dick — 
wot  married  her — they've  been  in  hot  water  ever 


since." 


X 

FOR    BETTER    OR   WORSE 

Mr.  George  Wotton,  gently  pushing  the  swing 
doors  of  the  public  bar  of  the  "  King's  Head  "  an 
inch  apart,  applied  an  eye  to  the  aperture,  in  the 
hope  of  discovering  a  moneyed  friend.  His  gaze 
fell  on  the  only  man  in  the  bar,  a  greybeard  of 
sixty,  whose  weather-beaten  face  and  rough  cloth- 
ing spoke  of  the  sea.  With  a  faint  sigh  he 
widened  the  opening  and  passed  through. 

"Mornin',  Ben,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at 
cheerfulness. 

"  Have  a  drop  with  me,"  said  the  other,  heartily. 
"  Got  any  money  about  you  ? " 

Mr.  Wotton  shook  his  head  and  his  face  fell, 
clearing  somewhat  as  the  other  handed  him  his 
mug.     "  Drink  it  all  up,  George,"  he  said. 

His  friend  complied.  A  more  tactful  man 
might  have  taken  longer  over  the  job,  but  Mr. 

Benjamin    Davis,   who    appeared   to   be    labour- 

204 


FOR   BETTER   OR  WORSE        205 

ing    under    some    strong    excitement,    took    no 
notice. 

"  I've  had  a  shock,  George,"  he  said,  regarding 
the  other  steadily.  "  I've  heard  news  of  my  old 
woman." 

"  Didn't  know  you  'ad  one,"  said  Mr.  Wotton, 
calmly.     "  Wot's  she  done  ?  " 

"  She   left   me,"   said   Mr.    Davis,   solemnly — 
"  she  left  me  thirty-five  years  ago.     I  went  off  to 
sea  one  fine  morning,  and  that  was  the  last  I  ever 
er. 

"Why,  did  she  bolt?"  inquired  Mr.  Wotton, 
with  mild  interest. 

"  No,"  said  his  friend,  "  but  I  did.  We'd  been 
married  three  years — three  long  years — and  I  had 
'ad  enough  of  it.  Awful  temper  she  had.  The 
last  words  I  ever  heard  'er  say  was :  '  Take 
that !  ' " 

Mr.  Wotton  took  up  the  mug  and,  after  satis- 
fying himself  as  to  the  absence  of  contents,  put  it 
down  again  and  yawned. 

"  I  shouldn't  worry  about  it  if  I  was  you,"  he 
remarked.  "  She's  hardly  likely  to  find  you  now. 
And  if  she  does  she  won't  get  much." 


206  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Davis  gave  vent  to  a  contemptuous  laugh, 
"  Get  much  !  "  he  repeated.  "  It's  her  what's  got 
it.  I  met  a  old  shipmate  of  mine  this  morning 
what  I  'adn't  seen  for  ten  years,  and  he  told  me 
he  run  acrost  'er  only  a  month  ago.     After  she  left 


me " 


(( 


But  you  said  you  left  her !  "  exclaimed  his 
listening  friend. 

"  Same  thing,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  impatiently. 
"  After  she  left  me  to  work  myself  to  death  at  sea, 
running  here  and  there  at  the  orders  of  a  pack  o' 
lazy  scuts  aft,  she  went  into  service  and  stayed 
in  one  place  for  fifteen  years.  Then  'er  missis 
died  and  left  her  all  'er  money.  For  twenty 
years,  while  I've  been  working  myself  to  skin 
and  bone,  she's  been  living  in  comfort  and  idle- 


ness." 


'"Ard  lines,"  said  Mr.  Wotton,  shaking  his 
head.     "  It  don't  bear  thinking  of." 

"  Why  didn't  she  advertise  for  me  ? "  said  Mr. 
Davis,  raising  his  voice.  "  That's  what  I  want  to 
know.  Advertisements  is  cheap  enough;  why 
didn't  she  advertise?  I  should  'ave  come  at  once 
if  she'd  said  anything  about  money." 


FOR   BETTER   OR   WORSE        207 

Mr.  Wotton  shook  his  head  again.  "  P'r'aps 
she  didn't  want  you,"  he  said,  slowly. 

"  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ? "  demanded  the 
other.  "  It  was  'er  dooty.  She'd  got  money,  and 
I  ought  to  have  'ad  my  'arf  of  it.  Nothing  can 
make  up  for  that  wasted  twenty  years — nothing.'^ 

"P'r'aps  she'll  take  you  back,"  said  Mr. 
Wotton. 

"Take  me  back.?"  repeated  Mr.  Davis.  "C 
course  she'll  take  me  back.  She'll  have  to. 
There's  a  law  in  the  land,  ain't  there  ?  What  I'm 
thinking  of  is  :  Can  I  get  back  my  share  what  I 
ought  to  have  'ad  for  the  last  twenty  years  ? " 

"  Get  'er  to  take  you  back  first,"  counselled  his 
friend.  "  Thirty-five  years  is  a  long  time,  and 
p'r'aps  she  has  lost  'er  love  for  you.  Was  you 
good-looking  in  those  days?" 

"Yes,"  snapped  Mr.  Davis;  "I  ain't  altered 
much.     'Sides,  what  about  her.?" 

"  That  ain't  the  question,"  said  the  other. 
"  She's  got  a  home  and  money.  It  don't  matter 
about  'er  looks ;  and,  wot's  more,  she  ain't  bound 
to  keep  you.  If  you  take  my  advice,  you  won't 
dream  of  letting  her  know  you  run  away  from  her. 


208  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Say  you  was  cast  away  at  sea,  and  when  you  came 
back  years  afterwards  you  couldn't  find  her." 

Mr.  Davis  pondered  for  some  time  in  sulky 
silence. 

"  P'r'aps  it  would  be  as  well,"  he  said  at  last; 
'*  but  I  sha'n't  stand  no  nonsense,  mind." 

"  If  you  like  I'll  come  with  you,"  said  Mr. 
Wotton.  "  I  ain't  got  nothing  to  do.  I  could 
tell  'er  I  was  cast  away  with  you  if  you  liked. 
Anything  to  help  a  pal." 

Mr.  Davis  took  two  inches  of  soiled  clay  pipe 
from  his  picket  and  puffed  thoughtfully. 

"  You  can  come,"  he  said  at  last.  *'  If  you'd 
only  got  a  copper  or  two  we  could  ride ;  it's  down 
Clapham  way." 

Mr.  Wotton  smiled  feebly,  and  after  going  care- 
fully through  his  pockets  shook  his  head  and 
followed  his  friend  outside. 

"I  wonder  whether  she'll  be  pleased?"  he 
remarked,  as  they  walked  slowly  along.  "  She 
might  be — women  are  funny  creatures — so  faith- 
ful. I  knew  one  whose  husband  used  to  knock 
'er  about  dreadful,  and  after  he  died  she  was  so 
true  to  his  memory  she  wouldn't  marry  again." 


FOR  BETTER   OR  WORSE        209 

Mr.  Davis  grunted,  and,  with  a  longing  eye  at 
the  omnibuses  passing  over  London  Bridge,  asked 
a  policeman  the  distance  to  Clapham. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Mr.  Wotton,  as  his  friend 
uttered  an  exclamation.  "  You'll  have  money  in 
your  pocket  soon." 

Mr.  Davis's  face  brightened.  "And  a  watch 
and  chain  too,"  he  said. 

"And  smoke  your  cigar  of  a  Sunday,"  said  Mr. 
Wotton,  "  and  have  a  easy-chair  and  a  glass  for 
a  friend." 

Mr.  Davis  almost  smiled,  and  then,  suddenly 
remembering  his  wasted  twenty  years,  shook  his 
head  grimly  over  the  friendship  that  attached 
itself  to  easy-chairs  and  glasses  of  ale,  and  said 
that  there  was  plenty  of  it  about.  More  friend- 
ship than  glasses  of  ale  and  easy-chairs,  perhaps. 

At  Clapham,  they  inquired  the  way  of  a  small 
boy,  and,  after  following  the  road  indicated,  re- 
traced their  steps,  cheered  by  a  faint  but  blood- 
thirsty hope  of  meeting  him  again. 

A  friendly  baker  put  them  on  the  right  track 
at  last,  both  gentlemen  eyeing  the  road  with  a 
mixture  of  concern  and  delis^ht.     It  was  a  road 


210  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

of  trim  semi-detached  villas,  each  with  a  well-kept 
front  garden  and  neatly-curtained  windows.  At 
the  gate  of  a  house  with  the  word  "  Blairgowrie  " 
inscribed  in  huge  gilt  letters  on  the  fanlight  Mr. 
Davis  paused  for  a  moment  uneasily,  and  then, 
walking  up  the  path,  followed  by  Mr.  Wotton, 
knocked  at  the  door. 

He  retired  a  step  in  disorder  before  the  appari- 
tion of  a  maid  in  cap  and  apron.  A  sharp  "  Not 
to-day !  "  sounded  in  his  ears  and  the  door  closed 
again.     He  faced  his  friend  gasping. 

"  I  should  give  her  the  sack  first  thing,"  said 
Mr.  Wotton. 

Mr.  Davis  knocked  again,  and  again.  The 
maid  reappeared,  and  after  surveying  them 
through  the  glass  opened  the  door  a  little  way 
and  parleyed. 

"  I  want  to  see  your  missis,"  said  Mr.  Davis, 
fiercely. 

"What  for?"  demanded  the  girl. 

"  You  tell  'er,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  inserting  his 
foot  just  in  time,  "you  tell  'er  that  there's  two 
gentlemen  here  what  have  brought  'er  news  of 
her  husband,  and  look  sharp  about  it." 


W 


"  YOU    TELL    'ER   that   THERE's    TWO    GENTLEMEN    HERE    WHAT 
HAVE    BROUGHT   'kr    NEWS   OF   HER   HUSBAND  " 


P2 


212  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"They  was  cast  away  with  'im,"  said  Mr. 
Wotton. 

"  On  a  desert  island,"  said  Mr.  Davis.  He 
pushed  his  way  in,  followed  by  his  friend,  and  a 
head  that  had  been  leaning  over  the  banisters  was 
suddenly  withdrawn.  For  a  moment  he  stood 
irresolute  in  the  tiny  passage,  and  then,  with  a 
husband's  boldness,  he  entered  the  front  room  and 
threw  himself  into  an  easy-chair.  Mr.  Wotton, 
after  a  scared  glance  around  the  well-furnished 
room,  seated  himself  on  the  extreme  edge  of  the 
most  uncomfortable  chair  he  could  find  and 
coughed  nervously. 

"  Better  not  be  too  sudden  with  her,"  he  whis- 
pered. "  You  don't  want  her  to  faint,  or  anything 
of  that  sort.  Don't  let  'er  know  who  you  are  at 
first;  let  her  find  it  out  for  herself." 

Mr.  Davis,  who  was  also  suffering  from  the 
stiff  grandeur  of  his  surroundings,  nodded. 

"  P'r'aps  you'd  better  start,  in  case  she  recker- 
nizes  my  voice,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  Pitch  it  in 
strong  about  me  and  'ow  I  was  always  wondering 
what  had  'appened  to  her." 

"  You're  in  luck,  that's  wot  you  are,"  said  his 


FOR   BETTER   OR   WORSE        213 

friend,  enviously.  "  I've  only  seen  furniture  like 
this  in  shop  windows  before.  H'sh  !  Here  she 
comes." 

He  started,  and  both  men  tried  to  look  at  their 
ease  as  a  stiff  rustling  sounded  from  the  stairs. 
Then  the  door  opened  and  a  tall,  stoutly-built  old 
lady  with  white  hair  swept  into  the  room  and  stood 
regarding  them. 

Mr.  Davis,  unprepared  for  the  changes  wrought 
by  thirty-five  years,  stared  at  her  aghast.  The 
black  silk  dress,  the  gold  watch-chain,  and  huge 
cameo  brooch  did  not  help  to  reassure  him. 

"  Good — good  afternoon,  ma'am,"  said  Mr. 
Wotton,  in  a  thin  voice. 

The  old  lady  returned  the  greeting,  and,  cross- 
ing to  a  chair  and  seating  herself  in  a  very  upright 
fashion,  regarded  him  calmly. 

"We — we  called  to  see  you  about  a  dear  old 
pal — friend,  I  mean,"  continued  Mr.  Wotton; 
"one  o'  the  best.     The  best." 

"  Yes  ?  "  said  the  old  lady. 

"  He's  been  missing,"  said  Mr.  Wotton,  watch- 
ing closely  for  any  symptoms  of  fainting,  "  for 
thir-ty-five  years.     Thir-ty-five  years  ago — very 


214  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

much  against  his  wish — he  left  'is  young  and 
handsome  wife  to  go  for  a  sea  v'y'ge,  and 
was  shipwrecked  and  cast  away  on  a  desert 
island." 

"  Yes  ?  "  said  the  old  lady  again. 

"  I  was  cast  away  with  'im,"  said  Mr.  Wotton. 
'*  Both  of  us  was  cast  away  with  him." 

He  indicated  Mr.  Davis  with  his  hand,  and  the 
old  lady,  after  a  glance  at  that  gentleman,  turned 
to  Mr.  Wotton  again. 

"  We  was  on  that  island  for  longer  than  I  like 
to  think  of,"  continued  Mr.  Wotton,  who  had  a 
wholesome  dread  of  dates.  "  But  we  was  rescued 
at  last,  and  ever  since  then  he  has  been  hunting 
high  and  low  for  his  wife." 

"  It's  very  interesting,"  murmured  the  old  lady; 
"  but  what  has  it  got  to  do  with  me?  " 

Mr.  Wotton  gasped,  and  cast  a  helpless  glance 
at  his  friend. 

"  You  ain't  heard  his  name  yet,"  he  said,  im- 
pressively. "  Wot  would  you  say  if  I  said  it  was 
—Ben  Davis?" 

"  I  should  say  it  wasn't  true,"  said  the  old  lady, 
promptly. 


FOR   BETTER   OR   WORSE         215 

"Not— true?"  said  Mr.  Wotton,  catching  his 
breath  painfully.     "  Wish  I  may  die " 

"About  the  desert  island,"  continued  the  old 
lady,  calmly.  "  The  story  that  I  heard  was  that 
he  went  off  like  a  cur  and  left  his  young  wife  to 
do  the  best  she  could  for  herself.  I  suppose  he's 
heard  since  that  she  has  come  in  for  a  bit  of 
money." 

''Money  r'  repeated  Mr.  Wotton,  in  a  voice 
that  he  fondly  hoped  expressed  artless  surprise. 
"  Money  !  " 

"Money,"  said  the  old  lady;  "and  I  suppose 
he  sent  you  two  gentlemen  round  to  see  how  the 
land  lay." 

She  was  looking  full  at  Mr,  Davis  as  she  spoke, 
and  both  men  began  to  take  a  somewhat  sombre 
view  of  the  situation. 

"  You  didn't  know  him,  else  you  wouldn't  talk 
like  that,"  said  Mr.  Wotton.  "I  don't  suppose 
you'd  know  'im  if  you  was  to  see  him  now." 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  should,"  said  the  other. 

"  P'r'aps  you'd  reckernize  his  voice.'*,"  said  Mr. 
Davis,  breaking  silence  at  last. 

Mr.  Wotton  held  his  breath,  but  the  old  ladv 


216  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

merely  shook  her  head  thoughtfully.  "  It  was  a 
disagreeable  voice  when  his  wife  used  to  hear  it," 
she  said  at  last.  "Always  fault-finding,  when  it 
wasn't  swearing." 

Mr.  Wotton  glanced  at  his  friend,  and,  raising 
his  eyebrows  slightly,  gave  up  his  task. 

"  Might  ha'  been  faults  on  both  sides,"  said  Mr. 
Davis,  gruffly.  "  You  weren't  all  that  you  should 
ha'  been,  you  know." 

"J/<?f  "  said  his  hostess,  raising  her  voice. 

"  Yes,  you,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  rising.  "  Don't 
you  know  me,  Mary?  Why,  I  knew  you  the 
moment  you  come  into  the  room." 

He  moved  towards  her  awkwardly,  but  she  rose 
in  her  turn  and  drew  back. 

"  If  you  touch  me  I'll  scream,"  she  said,  firmly. 
"  How  dare  you !  Why,  I've  never  seen  you 
before  in  my  life." 

"  It's  Ben  Davis,  ma'am ;  it's  'im,  right  enough," 
said  Mr.  Wotton,  meekly. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  Look  at  me  !  "  commanded  Mr.  Davis,  sternly. 
"  Look  at  me  straight  in  the  eye." 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense,"  said  the  other,  sharply. 


FOR   BETTER   OR   WORSE         217 

"  Look  you  in  the  eye,  indeed  !     I  don't  want  to 
look  in  your  eye.     What  would  people  think?" 

"  Let  'em  think  wot  they  like,"  said  Mr.  Davis, 
recklessly.  "  This  is  a  nice  home-coming  after 
being  away  thirty-five  years." 


"don't   you    know   me,    MARY?" 

"  Most  of  it  on  a  desert  island,"  put  in  Mr. 
Wotton,  pathetically. 

"And  now  I've  come  back,"  resumed  Mr. 
Davis;  "come  back  to  stop." 


218  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

He  hung  his  cap  on  a  vase  on  the  mantelpiece 
that  reeled  under  the  shock,  and,  dropping  into 
his  chair  again,  crossed  his  legs  and  eyed  her 
sternly.  Her  gaze  was  riveted  on  his  dilapidated 
boots.     She  looked  up  and  spoke  mildly. 

"  You're  not  my  husband,"  she  said.  "  You've 
made  a  mistake — I  think  you  had  better  go." 

"  Ho !  "  said  Mr.  Davis,  with  a  hard  laugh. 
"  In-deed  !     And  'ow  do  you  know  I'm  not?" 

"  For  the  best  of  reasons,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Besides,  how  can  you  prove  that  you  are  ? 
Thirty-five  years  is  a  long  time." 

"  'Specially  on  a  desert  island,"  said  Mr.  Wot- 
ton,  rapidly.  "  You'd  be  surprised  'ow  slow  the 
time  passes.  I  was  there  with  'im,  and  I  can  lay 
my  hand  on  my  'art  and  assure  you  that  that  is 
your  husband." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  the  old  lady,  vigorously. 
"  Rubbish !  " 

"  I  can  prove  it,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  fixing  her  with 
a  glittering  eye.  "  Do  you  remember  the  serpent 
I  'ad  tattooed  on  my  leg  for  a  garter?" 

"  If  you  don't  go  at  once,"  said  the  old  lady, 
hastily,  "  I'll  send  for  the  police." 


FOR   BETTER   OR  WORSE        219 


(( 


You  used  to  admire  it,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  re- 
proachfully.    "  I  remember  once " 

"  If  you  say  another  word,"  said  the  other,  in 
a  fierce  voice,  "  I'll  send  straight  off  for  the  police. 
You  and  your  serpents  !  I'll  tell  my  husband  of 
you,  that's  what  I'll  do." 

"  Your  WHAT.-*  "  roared  Mr.  Davis,  springing  to 
his  feet. 

"  My  husband.  He  won't  stand  any  of  your 
nonsense,  I  can  tell  you.  You'd  better  go  before 
he  comes  in." 

"  O-oh,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  taking  a  long  breath. 
*'  Oh,  so  you  been  and  got  married  again,  'ave 
you  ?  That's  your  love  for  your  husband  as  was 
cast  away  while  trying  to  earn  a  living  for  you. 
That's  why  you  don't  want  me,  is  it?  We'll  see. 
I'll  wait  for  him." 

**  You  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about," 
said  the  other,  with  great  dignity.  "  I've  only 
been  married  once." 

Mr.  Davis  passed  the  back  of  his  hand 
across  his  eyes  in  a  dazed  fashion  and  stared  at 
her. 

"  Is — is  somebody  passing  himself  off  as  me?  " 


220  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

he  demanded.     "  'Cos  if  he  is  I'll  'ave  you  both 
up  for  bigamy." 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  But— but " 

Mr.  Davis  turned  and  looked  blankly  at  his 
friend.  Mr.  Wotton  met  his  gaze  with  dilated 
eyes. 

"  You  say  you  recognize  me  as  your  wife  ? " 
said  the  old  lady. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  hotly. 

"  It's  very  curious,"  said  the  other — "  very. 
But  are  you  sure  ?     Look  again." 

Mr.  Davis  thrust  his  face  close  to  hers  and 
stared  hard.  She  bore  his  scrutiny  without 
flinching. 

"  I'm  positive  certain,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  taking 

a  breath. 

"That's  very  curious,"  said  the  old  lady;  "but, 
then,  I  suppose  we  are  a  bit  alike.  You  see,  Mrs. 
Davis  being  away,  I'm  looking  after  her  house 
for  a  bit.     My  name  happens  to  be  Smith." 

Mr.  Davis  uttered  a  sharp  exclamation,  and, 
falling  back  a  step,  stared  at  her  open-mouthed. 

"  We  all  make  mistakes,"  urged  Mr.  Wotton, 


FOR   BETTER   OR   WORSE         221 

after  a  long  silence,  "  and  Ben's  sight  ain't  wot  it 
used  to  be.  He  strained  it  looking  out  for  a  sail 
when  we  was  on  that  desert " 

"When — when'll  she  be  back?"  inquired  Mr. 
Davis,  finding  his  voice  at  last. 

The  old  lady  affected  to  look  puzzled.  "  But 
I  thought  you  were  certain  that  I  was  your  wife  ? " 
she  said,  smoothly. 

"  My  mistake,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  ruefully. 
"  Thirty-five  years  is  a  long  time,  and  people 
change  a  bit;  I  have  myself.  For  one  thing,  I 
must  say  I  didn't  expect  to  find  'er  so  stout." 

"  Stout  I "  repeated  the  other,  quickly. 

"  Not  that  I  mean  you're  too  stout,"  said  Mr. 
Davis,  hurriedly — *'  for  people  that  like  stoutness, 
that  is.     My  wife  used  to  'ave  a  very  good  figger." 

Mr.  Wotton  nodded.     "  He  used  to  rave  about 

it  on  that  des " 

"  When  will  she  be  back?  "  inquired  Mr.  Davis, 
interrupting  him. 

Mrs.  Smith  shook  her  head.  "  I  can't  say,"  she 
replied,  moving  towards  the  door.  "  When  she's 
off  holidaying  I  never  know  when  she'll  return. 
Shall  I  tell  her  you  called?" 


222  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Tell  her  I certainly"  said  Mr.  Davis,  with 

great  vehemence.  "  I'll  come  in  a  week's  time 
and  see  if  she's  back." 

"  She  might  be  away  for  months,"  said  the  old 
lady,  moving  slowly  to  the  passage  and  opening 
the  street  door.     "  Good — afternoon." 

She  closed  the  door  behind  them  and  stood 
watching  them  through  the  glass  as  they  passed 
disconsolately  into  the  street.  Then  she  went 
back  into  the  parlour  and,  standing  before  the 
mantelpiece,  looked  long  and  earnestly  into  the 
mirror. 

Mr.  Davis  returned  a  week  later — alone,  and, 
pausing  at  the  gate,  glanced  in  dismay  at  a  bill 
in  the  window  announcing  that  the  house  was  to 
be  sold.  He  walked  up  the  path  still  looking  at 
it,  and  being  admitted  by  the  trim  servant  was 
shown  into  the  parlour,  and  stood  in  a  dispirited 
fashion  before  Mrs.  Smith. 

"Not  back  yet?"  he  inquired,  gruffly. 

The  old  lady  shook  her  head. 

"  What— what— is  that  bill  for?"  demanded 
Mr.  Davis,  jerking  his  thumb  towards  it. 

"  She  is  thinking  of  selling  the  house,"  said 


FOR   BETTER   OR   WORSE        223 

Mrs.  Smith.  "  I  let  her  know  you  had  been,  and 
that  is  the  result.  She  won't  come  back.  You 
won't  see  her  again." 

"  Where  is  she?  "  inquired  Mr.  Davis,  frowning. 
Mrs.  Smith  shook  her  head  again.  "And  it 
would  be  no  use  my  telling  you,"  she  said. 
"  What  she  has  got  is  her  own,  and  the  law  won't 
let  you  touch  a  penny  of  it  without  her  consent. 
You  must  have  treated  her  badly;  why  did  you 
leave  her? " 

"Why?"  repeated  Mr.  Davis.  "Why?  Why, 
because  she  hit  me  over  the  'ead  with  a  broom- 
handle." 

Mrs.  Smith  tossed  her  head. 
"  Fancy  you  remembering  that  for  thirty-five 
years  !  "  she  said. 

"  Fancy  forgetting  it !  "  retorted  Mr.  Davis. 
"  I   suppose  she  had  a  hot  temper,"  said  the 
old  lady. 

"'Ot  temper?"  said  the  other.  "Yes."  He 
leaned  forward,  and  holding  his  chilled  hands 
over  the  fire  stood  for  some  time  deep  in 
thought. 

I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  he  said  at  last,  "  but 


« 


224  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

there's  a  something  about  you  that  reminds  me 
of  her.  It  ain't  your  voice,  'cos  she  had  a  very 
nice  voice — when  she  wasn't  in  a  temper — and  it 
ain't  your  face,  because " 

"Yes?"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  sharply. 

"  Because  it  don't  remind  me  of  her." 

"  And  yet  the  other  day  you  said  you  recognized 
me  at  once,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"I  thought  I  did,"  said  Mr.  Davis.  "One 
thing  is,  I  was  expecting  to  see  her,  I  s'pose." 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

"Well,  I  won't  keep  you,"  said  Mrs.  Smith  at 
last,  "and  it's  no  good  for  you  to  keep  coming 
here  to  see  her.  She  will  never  come  here  again. 
I  don't  want  to  hurt  your  feelings,  but  you  don't 
look  over  and  above  respectable.  Your  coat  is 
torn,  your  trousers  are  patched  in  a  dozen  places, 
and  your  boots  are  half  off  your  feet — I  don't 
know  what  the  servant  must  think." 

"  I — I  only  came  to  look  for  my  wife,"  said 
Mr.  Davis,  in  a  startled  voice.  "  I  won't  come 
again." 

"That's  right,"  said  the  old  lady.  "That'll 
please  her,  I  know.     And  if  she  should  happen  to 


FOR  BETTER   OR   WORSE 


225 


ask  what  sort  of  a  living  you  are  making,  what 
shall  I  tell  her?" 

"  Tell  her  what  you   said  about  my  clothes, 


"if  I  TAKE  YOU  BACK  AGAIN,"  REPEATED  HIS  WIFE,  "ARE 
YOU  GOING  TO  BEHAVE  YOURSELF?" 

ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  with  his  hand  on  the 
door-knob.  "  She'll  understand  then.  She's 
known  wot  it  is  to  be  poor  herself.     She'd  got  a 


226  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

bad  temper,  but  she'd  have  cut  her  tongue  out 
afore  she'd  'ave  thrown  a  poor  devil's  rags  in  his 
face.     Good-afternoon." 

"  Good-afternoon,  Ben,"  said  the  old  woman, 
in  a  changed  voice. 

Mr.  Davis,  half-way  through  the  door,  started 
as  though  he  had  been  shot,  and,  facing  about, 
stood  eyeing  her  in  dumb  bewilderment. 

"  It  isn't  the  same  voice  and  it  isn't  the  same 
face,"  said  the  old  woman;  "but  if  I'd  only  got 
a  broom-handle  handy " 

Mr.  Davis  made  an  odd  noise  in  his  throat. 

"  If  you  hadn't  been  so  down  on  your  luck," 
said  his  wife,  blinking  her  eyes  rapidly,  "  I'd  have 
let  you  go.  If  you  hadn't  looked  so  miserable  I 
could  have  stood  it.  If  I  take  you  back,  are  you 
^oing  to  behave  yourself  ? " 

Mr.  Davis  stood  gaping  at  her. 

"  If  I  take  you  back  again,"  repeated  his  wife, 
speaking  very  slowly,  "  are  you  going  to  behave 
yourself? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Davis,  finding  his  voice  at  last. 
**  Yes,  if  you  are." 


XI 

THE    OLD    MAN    OF    THE    SEA 

"  What  I  want  you  to  do,"  said  Mr.  George 
Wright,  as  he  leaned  towards  the  old  sailor,  "  is 
to  be  an  uncle  to  me." 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  the  mystified  Mr.  Kemp, 
pausing  with  a  mug  of  beer  midway  to  his  lips. 

"A  tick  uncle,"  continued  the  young  man, 
lowering  his  voice  to  prevent  any  keen  ears  in  the 
next  bar  from  acquiring  useless  knowledge.  "  An 
uncle  from  New  Zealand,  who  is  going  to  leave 
me  all  'is  money." 

"Where's  it  coming  from?"  demanded  Mr. 
Kemp,  with  a  little  excitement, 

"  It  ain't  coming,"  was  the  reply.  "  You've 
only  got  to  say  you've  got  it.  Fact  of  the  matter 
is,  I've*  got  my  eye  on  a  young  lady;  there's 
another  chap  after  'er  too,  and  if  she  thought  I'd 
got  a  rich  uncle  it  might  make  all  the  difference. 
She  knows   I   'ad   an   uncle   that   went   to   New 

Q  2  227 


)> 


5J 


228  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Zealand  and  was  never  heard  of  since.     That's 
what  made  me  think  of  it." 

Mr.  Kemp  drank  his  beer  in  thoughtful  silence. 
"  How  can  I  be  a  rich  uncle  without  any  brass? 
he  inquired  at  length. 

"  I   should  'ave  to  lend  you  some — a  little, 
said  Mr.  Wright. 

The  old  man  pondered.  "  I've  had  money 
lent  me  before,"  he  said,  candidly,  "but  I  can't 
call  to  mind  ever  paying  it  back.  I  always  meant 
to,  but  that's  as  far  as  it  got." 

"  It  don't  matter,"  said  the  other.  "  It'll  only 
be  for  a  little  while,  and  then  you'll  'ave  a  letter 
calling  you  back  to  New  Zealand.  See?  And 
you'll  go  back,  promising  to  come  home  in  a  year's 
time,  after  you've  wound  up  your  business,  and 
leave  us  all  your  money.     See?" 

Mr.  Kemp  scratched  the  back  of  his  neck. 
"  But  she's  sure  to  find  it  out  in  time,"  he  objected. 

"  P'raps,"  said  Mr.  Wright.  "  And  p'r'aps  not. 
There'll  be  plenty  of  time  for  me  to  get  married 
before  she  does,  and  you  could  write  back  and 
say  you  had  got  married  yourself,  or  given  your 
money  to  a  hospital." 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF  THE   SEA    229 

He  ordered  some  more  beer  for  Mr.  Kemp,  and 
in  a  low  voice  gave  him  as  much  of  the  family 
history  as  he  considered  necessary. 

"  I've  only  known  you  for  about  ten  days,"  he 
concluded,  "  but  I'd  sooner  trust  you  than  people 
I've  known  for  years." 

"  I  took  a  fancy  to  you  the  moment  I  set  eyes 
on  you,"  rejoined  Mr.  Kemp.  "  You're  the  living 
image  of  a  young  feller  that  lent  me  five  pounds 
once,  and  was  drowned  afore  my  eyes  the  week 
after.  He  'ad  a  bit  of  a  squint,  and  I  s'pose  that's 
how  he  came  to  fall  overboard." 

He  emptied  his  mug,  and  then,  accompanied 
by  Mr.  Wright,  fetched  his  sea-chest  from  the 
boarding-house  where  he  was  staying,  and  took 
it  to  the  young  man's  lodgings.  Fortunately  for 
the  latter's  pocket  the  chest  contained  a  good  best 
suit  and  boots,  and  the  only  expenses  incurred 
were  for  a  large,  soft  felt  hat  and  a  gilded  watch 
and  chain.  Dressed  in  his  best,  with  a  bulging 
pocket-book  in  his  breast-pocket,  he  set  out  with 
Mr.  Wright  on  the  following  evening  to  make 
his  first  call. 

Mr.  Wright,  who  was  also  in  his  best  clothes. 


230  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

led  the  way  to  a  small  tobacconist's  in  a  side 
street  off  the  Mile  End  Road,  and,  raising  his 
hat  with  some  ceremony,  shook  hands  with  a  good- 
looking  young  woman  who  stood  behind  the 
counter;  Mr.  Kemp,  adopting  an  air  of  scornful 
dignity  intended  to  indicate  the  possession  of 
great  wealth,  waited. 

"  This  is  my  uncle,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  speak- 
ing rapidly,  "  from  New  Zealand,  the  one  I  spoke 
to  you  about.  He  turned  up  last  night,  and  you 
might  have  knocked  me  down  with  a  feather. 
The  last  person  in  the  world  I  expected  to  see." 

Mr.  Kemp,  in  a  good  rolling  voice,  said,  "  Good 
evening,  miss;  I  hope  you  are  well,"  and,  sub- 
siding into  a  chair,  asked  for  a  cigar.  His  surprise 
when  he  found  that  the  best  cigar  they  stocked 
only  cost  sixpence  almost  assumed  the  dimensions 
of  a  grievance. 

"  It'll  do  to  go  on  with,"  he  said,  smelling  it 
suspiciously.  "  Have  you  got  change  for  a  fifty- 
pound  note  ? " 

Miss  Bradshaw,  concealing  her  surprise  by  an 
effort,  said  that  she  would  see,  and  was  scanning 
the   contents  of  a  drawer,   when   Mr.   Kemp   in 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA     231 

some  haste  discovered  a  few  odd  sovereigns  in 
his  waistcoat-pocket.  Five  minutes  later  he  was 
sitting  in  the  little  room  behind  the  shop,  holding 
forth  to  an  admiring  audience. 

"  So  far  as   I  know,"  he  said,   in  reply  to  a 


l,^m!S.-ir  ^ 


"  it'll  do  to  go  on  with,    he  said 

question  of  Mrs.  Bradshaw's,  "  George  is  the  only 
relation  I've  got.  Him  and  me  are  quite  alone, 
and  I  can  tell  you  I  was  glad  to  find  him." 

Mrs.  Bradshaw  sighed.     "  It's  a  pity  you  are 
so  far  apart,"  she  said. 


232  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  It's  not  for  long,"  said  Mr.  Kemp.  "  I'm  just 
going  back  for  about  a  year  to  wind  up  things 
out  there,  and  then  I'm  coming  back  to  leave  my 
old  bones  over  here.  George  has  very  kindly 
offered  to  let  me  live  with  him." 

"  He  won't  suffer  for  it,  I'll  be  bound,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradshaw,  archly. 

"  So  far  as  money  goes  he  won't,"  said  the  old 
man,  "  Not  that  that  would  make  any  difference 
to  George." 

"  It  would  be  the  same  to  me  if  you  hadn't  got 
a  farthing,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  promptly. 

Mr.  Kemp,  somewhat  affected,  shook  hands 
with  him,  and  leaning  back  in  the  most  comfort- 
able chair  in  the  room,  described  his  life  and 
struggles  in  New  Zealand.  Hard  work,  tee- 
totalism,  and  the  simple  life  combined  appeared 
to  be  responsible  for  a  fortune  which  he  affected 
to  be  too  old  to  enjoy.  Misunderstandings  of  a 
painful  nature  were  avoided  by  a  timely  admission 
that  under  medical  advice  he  was  now  taking  a 
fair  amount  of  stimulant. 

"  Mind,"  he  said,  as  he  walked  home  with  the 
elated  George,  "  it's  your  game,  not  mine,  and  it's 


'OW    MUCH    DID  YOU   SAY   YOU'd   GOT   IN   THE   BANK?" 


234  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

sure  to  come  a  bit  expensive.  1  can't  be  a  rich 
uncle  without  spending  a  bit.  'Ow  much  did  you 
say  you'd  got  in  the  bank  ? " 

"  We  must  be  as  careful  as  we  can,"  said  Mr. 
Wright,  hastily.  "  One  thing  is  they  can't  leave 
the  shop  to  go  out  much.  It's  a  very  good  little 
business,  and  it  ought  to  be  all  right  for  me  and 
Bella  one  of  these  days,  eh?" 

Mr.  Kemp,  prompted  by  a  nudge  in  the  ribs, 
assented.  "  It's  wonderful  how  they  took  it  all  in 
about  me,"  he  said;  " but  I  feel  certain  in  my  own 
mind  that  I  ought  to  chuck  some  money  about." 

"  Tell  'em  of  the  money  you  have  chucked 
about,"  said  Mr.  Wright.  "  It'll  do  just  as  w^ell, 
and  come  a  good  deal  cheaper.  And  you  had 
better  go  round  alone  to-morrow  evening.  It'll 
look  better.  Just  go  in  for  another  one  of  their 
sixpenny  cigars.'* 

Mr.  Kemp  obeyed,  and  the  following  evening, 
after  sitting  a  little  while  chatting  in  the  shop, 
was  invited  into  the  parlour,  where,  mindful  of 
Mr.  Wright's  instructions,  he  held  his  listeners 
enthralled  by  tales  of  past  expenditure.  A  tip 
of  fifty  pounds  to  his  bedroom  steward  coming 


THE  OLD  MAN  OF  THE  SEA  235 

over  was  characterized  by  Mrs.  Bradshaw  as 
extravagant. 

"  Seems  to  be  going  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Wright, 
as  the  old  man  made  his  report ;  "  but  be  careful ; 
don't  go  overdoing  it." 

Mr.  Kemp  nodded.  "  I  can  turn  'em  round  my 
little  finger,"  he  said.  "  You'll  have  Bella  all  to 
yourself  to-morrow  evening." 

Mr.  Wright  flushed.  "  How  did  you  manage 
that?"  he  inquired.  "It's  the  first  time  she  has 
ever  been  out  with  me  alone." 

"  She  ain't  coming  out,"  said  Mr.  Kemp. 
"  She's  going  to  stay  at  home  and  mind  the  shop ; 
it's  the  mother  what's  coming  out.  Going  to 
spend  the  evening  with  me  !  " 

Mr.  Wright  frowned.  "  What  did  you  do  that 
for?  "  he  demanded,  hotly. 

"I  didn't  do  it,"  said  Mr.  Kemp,  equably; 
"they  done  it.  The  old  lady  says  that,  just  for 
once  in  her  life,  she  wants  to  see  how  it  feels 
to  spend  money  like  water." 

^^  Money  like  water  T'  repeated   the  horrified 

Mr.    Wright.     "Money   like I'll    'money' 

her— I'll " 


236  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  It  don't  matter  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Kemp.  "  I 
can  have  a  headache  or  a  chill,  or  something  of 
that  sort,  if  you  like.  I  don't  want  to  go.  It's 
no  pleasure  to  me." 

"What  will  it  cost?"  demanded  Mr.  Wright, 
pacing  up  and  down  the  room. 

The  rich  uncle  made  a  calculation.  "  She 
wants  to  go  to  a  place  called  the  Empire,"  he 
said,  slowly,  "and  have  something  for  supper, 
and  there'd  be  cabs  and  things.  I  dessay  it  would 
cost  a  couple  o'  pounds,  and  it  might  be  more. 
But  I'd  just  as  soon  'ave  a  chill — just." 

Mr.  Wright  groaned,  and  after  talking  of  Mrs. 
Bradshaw  as  though  she  were  already  his  mother- 
in-law,  produced  the  money.  His  instructions 
as  to  economy  lasted  almost  up  to  the  moment 
when  he  stood  with  Bella  outside  the  shop  on  the 
following  evening  and  watched  the  couple  go 
off. 

"  It's  wonderful  how  well  they  get  on  together," 
said  Bella,  as  they  re-entered  the  shop  and  passed 
into  the  parlour.  "  I've  never  seen  mother  take 
to  anybody  so  quick  as  she  has  to  him." 

"  I  hope  you  like  him,  too,"  said  Mr.  Wright. 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA     237 

"  He's  a  dear,"  said  Bella.  "  Fancy  having  all 
that  money.     I  wonder  what  it  feels  like.?" 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  know  some  day,"  said  the 
young  man,  slowly;  "but  it  won't  be  much  good 
to  me  unless " 

"Unless.'*"  said  Bella,  after  a  pause. 

"  Unless  it  gives  me  what  I  want,"  replied  the 
other.  "  I'd  sooner  be  a  poor  man  and  married 
to  the  girl  I  love,  than  a  millionaire." 

Miss  Bradshaw  stole  an  uneasy  glance  at  his 
somewhat  sallow  features,  and  became  thoughtful. 

"  It's  no  good  having  diamonds  and  motor-cars 
and  that  sort  of  thing  unless  you  have  somebody 
to  share  them  with,"  pursued  Mr.  Wright. 

Miss  Bradshaw's  eyes  sparkled,  and  at  that 
moment  the  shop-bell  tinkled  and  a  lively  whistle 
sounded.  She  rose  and  went  into  the  shop,  and 
Mr.  Wright  settled  back  in  his  chair  and  scowled 
darkly  as  he  saw  the  intruder. 

"  Good  evening,"  said  the  latter.  "  I  want  a 
sixpenny  smoke  for  twopence,  please.  How  are 
we  this  evening?  Sitting  up  and  taking  nourish- 
ment.?" 

Miss  Bradshaw  told  him  to  behave  himself. 


238  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  Always  do,"  said  the  young  man.  "  That's 
why  I  can  never  get  anybody  to  play  with.  I  had 
such  an  awful  dream  about  you  last  night  that  I 
couldn't  rest  till  I  saw  you.    Awful  it  was." 

"What  was  it?"  inquired  Miss  Bradshaw. 

"  Dreamt  you  were  married,"  said  Mr.  Hills, 
smiling  at  her. 

Miss  Bradshaw  tossed  her  head.  "Who  to, 
pray?"  she  inquired. 

"  Me,"  said  Mr.  Hills,  simply.  "  I  woke  up  in 
a  cold  perspiration.  Halloa !  is  that  Georgie  in 
there?    How  are  you,  George ?    Better?" 

"  I'm  all  right,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  with  dignity, 
as  the  other  hooked  the  door  open  with  his  stick 
and  nodded  at  him. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  look  it?"  demanded  the 
lively  Mr.  Hills.  "  Have  you  got  your  feet  wet, 
or  what  ? " 

"  Oh,  be  quiet,"  said  Miss  Bradshaw,  smiling 
at  him. 

"  Right-o,"  said  Mr.  Hills,  dropping  into  a 
chair  by  the  counter  and  caressing  his  moustache. 
"  But  you  wouldn't  speak  to  me  like  that  if  you 
knew  what  a  terrible  day  I've  had."  , 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA     239 

"  What    have    you    been    doing  ? "    asked    the 

girl. 

"Working,"  said  the  other,  with  a  huge  sigh. 
"Where's  the  millionaire?  I  came  round  on 
purpose  to  have  a  look  at  him." 

"  Him  and  mother  have  gone  to  the  Empire," 
said  Miss  Bradshaw. 

Mr.  Hills  gave  three  long,  penetrating  whistles, 
and  then,  placing  his  cigar  with  great  care  on  the 
counter,  hid  his  face  in  a  huge  handkerchief. 
Miss  Bradshaw  glanced  from  him  to  the  frown- 
ing Mr.  Wright,  and  then,  entering  the  parlour, 
closed  the  door  with  a  bang.  Mr.  Hills  took 
the  hint,  and  with  a  somewhat  thoughtful  grin 
departed. 

He  came  in  next  evening  for  another  cigar, 
and  heard  all  that  there  was  to  hear  about  the 
Empire.  Mrs.  Bradshaw  would  have  treated  him 
but  coldly,  but  the  innocent  Mr.  Kemp,  charmed 
by  his  mxanner,  paid  him  great  attention, 

"  He's  just  like  what  I  was  at  his  age,"  he  said. 
"  Lively." 

"  I'm  not  a  patch  on  you,"  said  Mr.  Hills, 
edging  his  way  by  slow  degrees  into  the  parlour. 


240  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

"  /  don't  take  young  ladies  to  the  Empire.  Were 
you  telling  me  you  came  over  here  to  get  married, 
or  did  I  dream  it? " 

'"Ark  at  him,"  said  the  blushing  Mr.  Kemp, 
as  Mrs.  Bradshaw  shook  her  head  at  the  offender 
and  told  him  to  behave  himself. 

"  He's  a  man  any  woman  might  be  happy  with," 
said  Mr.  Hills.  "He  never  knows  how  much 
there  is  in  his  trousers-pocket.  Fancy  sewing 
on  buttons  for  a  man  like  that.  Gold-mining 
ain't  in  it." 

Mrs.  Bradshaw  shook  her  head  at  him  again, 
and  Mr.  Hills,  after  apologizing  to  her  for  reveal- 
ing   her    innermost    thoughts    before    the    most 
guileless  of  men,  began  to  question  Mr.  Kemp 
as  to  the  prospects  of  a  bright  and  energetic  young 
man,  with  a  distaste  for  work,  in  New  Zealand. 
The  audience  listened  with  keen  attention  to  the 
replies,  the  only  disturbing  factor  being  a  cough 
of  Mr.  Wright's,  which  became  more  and  more 
troublesome  as  the  evening  wore  on.    By  the  time 
uncle  and  nephew  rose  to  depart  the  latter  was 
so  hoarse  that  he  could  scarcely  speak. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  'em  you  had  got  a  letter 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA     241 

calling  you  home,  as  I  told  you? "  he  vociferated, 
as  soon  as  they  were  clear  of  the  shop. 

"  I — I  forgot  it,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  Forgot  it ! "  repeated  the  incensed  Mr. 
Wright.  "What  did  you  think  I  was  coughing 
like  that  for — fun  ?  " 

"  I  forgot  it,"  said  the  old  man,  doggedly. 
"  Besides,  if  you  take  my  advice,  you'd  better  let 
me  stay  a  little  longer  to  make  sure  of  things." 

Mr.  Wright  laughed  disagreeably.  "  I  dare 
say,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  am  managing  this  affair, 
not  you.  Now,  you  go  round  to-morrow  afternoon 
and  tell  them  you're  off.  D'ye  hear.'*  D'ye  think 
I'm  made  of  money.'*  And  what  do  you  mean 
by  making  such  a  fuss  of  that  fool,  Charlie  Hills? 
You  know  he  is  after  Bella." 

He  walked  the  rest  of  the  way  home  in 
indignant  silence,  and,  after  giving  minute  instruc- 
tions to  Mr.  Kemp  next  morning  at  breakfast, 
went  off  to  work  in  a  more  cheerful  frame  of 
mind.  Mr.  Kemp  was  out  when  he  returned,  and 
after  making  his  toilet  he  followed  him  to  Mrs. 
Bradshaw's. 

To  his  annoyance,  he  found  Mr.  Hills  there 


242  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

again;  and,  moreover,  it  soon  became  clear  to 
him  that  Mr.  Kemp  had  said  nothing  about  his 
approaching  departure.  Coughs  and  scowls 
passed  unheeded,  and  at  last  in  a  hesitating  voice, 
he  broached  the  subject  himself.  There  was  a 
general  chorus  of  lamentation. 

"  I  hadn't  got  the  heart  to  tell  you,"  said 
Mr.  Kemp.  "  I  don't  know  when  I've  been  so 
happy." 

"  But  you  haven't  got  to  go  back  immediate," 
said  Mrs.  Bradshaw. 

*'  To-morrow,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  before  the  old 
man  could  reply.     "  Business." 

"Must  you  go?"  said  Mrs.  Bradshaw. 

Mr.  Kemp  smiled  feebly.  "  I  suppose  I  ought 
to,"  he  replied,  in  a  hesitating  voice. 

"  Take  my  tip  and  give  yourself  a  bit  of  a 
holiday  before  you  go  back,"  urged  Mr.  Hills. 

"Just  for  a  few  days,"  pleaded  Bella. 

"  To  please  us,"  said  Mrs.  Bradshaw.  "  Think 
'ow  George'll  miss  you." 

"  Lay  hold  of  him  and  don't  let  him  go,"  said 
Mr.  Hills. 

He  took  Mr.  Kemp  round  the  waist,  and  the 


THE  OLD  MAN  OF  THE  SEA  243 

laughing  Bella  and  her  mother  each  secured  an 
arm.  An  appeal  to  Mr.  Wright  to  secure  his  legs 
passed  unheeded. 

"We  don't  let  you  go  till  you  promise,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradshaw. 

Mr.  Kemp  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"Promise?"  said  Bella. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Kemp;  "p'raps " 

"  He  must  go  back,"  shouted  the  alarmed  Mr. 
Wright. 

"  Let  him  speak  for  himself,"  exclaimed  Bella, 
indignantly. 

"Just  another  week,  then,"  said  Mr.  Kemp. 
"  It's  no  good  having  money  if  I  can't  please 
myself." 

"A  week  .^"  shouted  Mr.  Wright,  almost 
beside  himself  with  rage  and  dismay.  "  A  week  ! 
Another  week  I     Why,  you  told  me " 

"  Oh,  don't  listen  to  him,"  said  Mrs.  Bradshaw. 
"  Croaker  !  It's  his  own  business,  ain't  it?  And 
he  knows  best,  don't  he?  What's  it  got  to  do 
with  you  ? " 

She  patted  Mr.  Kemp's  hand;  Mr.  Kemp 
patted  back,  and  with  his  disengaged  hand  helped 


R  2 


244  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

himself  to  a  glass  of  beer — the  fourth — and 
beamed  in  a  friendly  fashion  upon  the  company. 

"  George  !  "  he  said,  suddenly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  in  a  harsh  voice. 

"  Did  you  think  to  bring  my  pocket-book  along 
with  you  ? " 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  sharply;  "I  didn't." 

"  Tt — tt^''  said  the  old  man,  with  a  gesture  of 
annoyance.  "Well,  lend  me  a  couple  of  pounds, 
then — or  else  run  back  and  fetch  my  pocket- 
book,"  he  added,  with  a  sly  grin. 

Mr.  Wright's  face  worked  with  impotent  fury. 
"  What — what — do  you — want  it  for?  "  he  gasped. 

Mrs.  Bradshaw's  "  Well !  Well !  "  seemed  to 
sum  up  the  general  feeling;  Mr.  Kemp,  shaking 
his  head,  eyed  him  with  gentle  reproach. 

"  Me  and  Mrs.  Bradshaw  are  going  to  'ave 
another  evening  out,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  I've  only 
got  a  few  more  days,  and  I  must  make  hay  while 
the  sun  shines." 

To  Mr.  Wright  the  room  seemed  to  revolve 
slowly  on  its  axis,  but,  regaining  his  self-posses- 
sion by  a  supreme  effort,  he  took  out  his  purse 
and  produced  the  amount.    Mrs.  Bradshaw,  after 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA     245 

a  few  feminine  protestations,  went  upstairs  to 
put  her  bonnet  on. 

"And  you  can  go  and  fetch  a  hansom-cab, 
George,  while  she's  a-doing  of  it,"  said  Mr. 
Kemp.  "  Pick  out  a  good  'orse — spotted-grey, 
if  you  can." 

Mr.  Wright  arose  and,  departing  with  a  sudden- 
ness that  was  almost  startling,  exploded  harm- 
lessly in  front  of  the  barber's,  next  door  but  one. 
Then  with  lagging  steps  he  went  in  search  of  the 
shabbiest  cab  and  oldest  horse  he  could  find. 

"Thankee,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Kemp,  bluffly, 
as  he  helped  Mrs.  Bradshaw  in  and  stood  with 
his  foot  on  the  step.  "  By  the  way,  you  had  better 
go  back  and  lock  my  pocket-book  up.  I  left  it 
on  the  washstand,  and  there's  best  part  of  a  thou- 
sand pounds  in  it.  You  can  take  fifty  for  yourself 
to  buy  smokes  with." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  admiration,  and  Mr. 
Wright,  with  a  frantic  attempt  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances, tried  to  thank  him,  but  in  vain.  Long  after 
the  cab  had  rolled  away  he  stood  on  the  pave- 
ment trying  to  think  out  a  position  which  was 
rapidly  becoming  unendurable.     Still  keeping  up 


246  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

appearances,  he  had  to  pretend  to  go  home  to 
look  after  the  pocket-book,  leaving  the  jubilant 
Mr.  Hills  to  improve  the  shining  hour  with  Miss 
Bradshaw. 

Mr.  Kemp,  returning  home  at  midnight — in  a 
cab — found  the  young  man  waiting  up  for  him, 
and,  taking  a  seat  on  the  edge  of  the  table, 
listened  unmoved  to  a  word-picture  of  himself 
which  seemed  interminable.  He  was  only  mo/ed 
to  speech  when  Mr.  Wright  described  him  as  a 
white-whiskered  Jezebel  who  was  a  disgrace  to 
his  sex,  and  then  merely  in  the  interests  of  natural 
science. 

"  Don't  you  worry,"  he  said,  as  the  other  paused 
from  exhaustion.    "  It  won't  be  for  long  now." 

''Long?''  said  Mr.  Wright,  panting.  "First 
thing  to-morrow  morning  you  have  a  telegram 
calling  you  back — a  telegram  that  must  be 
minded.     D'ye  see }  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Mr.  Kemp,  plainly.  "  I'm 
not  going  back,  never  no  more — never !  I'm 
going  to  stop  here  and  court  Mrs.  Bradshaw." 

Mr.  Wright  fought  for  breath.  "  You — you 
can't !  "  he  gasped. 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA     247 

"  I'm  going  to  have  a  try,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  I'm  sick  of  going  to  sea,  and  it'll  be  a  nice 
comfortable  home  for  my  old  age.  You  marry 
Bella,  and  I'll  marry  her  mother.  Happy 
family !  " 

Mr.  Wright,  trembling  with  rage,  sat  down  to 
recover,  and,  regaining  his  composure  after  a 
time,  pointed  out  almost  calmly  the  various  diffi- 
culties in  the  way. 

"I've  thought  it  all  out,"  said  Mr.  Kemp, 
nodding.  "  She  mustn't  know  I'm  not  rich  till 
after  we're  married;  then  I  'ave  a  letter  from  New 
Zealand  saying  I've  lost  all  my  money.  It's 
just  as  easy  to  have  that  letter  as  the  one  you 
spoke  of." 

"And  I'm  to  find  you  money  to  play  the  rich 
uncle  with  till  you're  married,  I  suppose,"  said 
Mr.  Wright,  in  a  grating  voice,  "and  then  lose 
Bella  when  Mrs.  Bradshaw  finds  you've  lost  your 
money  ? " 

Mr.  Kemp  scratched  his  ear.  "That's  your 
look-out,"  he  said,  at  last. 

"  Now,  look  here,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  with  great 
determination.     "  Either  you  go   and  tell  them 


248  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

that  you've  been  telegraphed  for — cabled  is  the 
proper  word — or  I  tell  them  the  truth." 

"  That'll  settle  you  then,"  said  Mr.  Kemp. 

"  No  more  than  the  other  would,"  retorted  the 
young  man,  "  and  it'll  come  cheaper.  One  thing 
I'll  take  my  oath  of,  and  that  is  I  won't  give  you 
another  farthing;  but  if  you  do  as  I  tell  you 
I'll  give  you  a  quid  for  luck.  Now,  think  it 
over." 

Mr.  Kemp  thought  it  over,  and  after  a  vain 
attempt  to  raise  the  promised  reward  to  five 
pounds,  finally  compounded  for  two,  and  went 
off  to  bed  after  a  few  stormy  words  on  selfishness 
and  ingratitude.  He  declined  to  speak  to  his 
host  at  breakfast  next  morning,  and  accompanied 
him  in  the  evening  with  the  air  of  a  martyr  going 
to  the  stake.  He  listened  in  stony  silence  to  the 
young  man's  instructions,  and  only  spoke  when 
the  latter  refused  to  pay  the  two  pounds  in 
advance. 

The  news,  communicated  in  halting  accents  by 
Mr.  Kemp,  was  received  with  flattering  dismay. 
Mrs.  Bradshaw  refused  to  believe  her  ears,  and 
it    was    only    after    the    information    had    been 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA    249 

repeated  and  confirmed  by  Mr.  Wright  that  she 
understood. 

"  I  must  go,"  said  Mr.  Kemp.  "  I've  spent 
over  eleven  pounds  cabling  to-day;  but  it's  all 
no  good." 

"  But  you're  coming  back?  "  said  Mr.  Hills. 

"  C  course  I  am,"  was  the  reply.  "  George  is 
the  only  relation  I've  got,  and  I've  got  to  look 
after  him,  I  suppose.  After  all,  blood  is  thicker 
than  water." 

"  Hear,  hear !  "  said  Mrs.  Bradshaw,  piously. 

"And  there's  you  and  Bella,"  continued  Mr. 
Kemp;  "two  of  the  best  that  ever  breathed." 

The  ladies  looked  down. 

"And  Charlie  Hills;  I  don't  know— I  don't 
know  when  I've  took  such  a  fancy  to  anybody  as 
I  have  to  'im.  If  I  was  a  young  gal — a  single 
young  gal — he's  just  the  one  I  should  fancy.  He's 
a  good-'arted,  good-looking " 

"  Draw  it  mild,"  interrupted  the  blushing  Mr. 
Hills,  as  Mr.  Wright  bestowed  a  ferocious  glance 
upon  the  speaker. 

"  Clever,  lively  young  fellow,"  concluded  Mr. 
Kemp.    "  George  !  " 


250 


SHIP'S   COMPANY 


"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Wright. 

"  I'm  going  now.  I've  got  to  catch  the  train 
for  Southampton,  but  I  don't  want  you  to  come 
with  me.     I  prefer  to  be  alone.     You  stay  here 


"the  other  half  and  my  best  gold  watch  and  chain  I 

HAVE   LEFT   TO    MY    DEAR   YOUNG   PAL,    CHARLIE    HILLS" 

and  cheer  them  up.  Oh,  and  before  I  forget  it, 
lend  me  a  couple  o'  pounds  out  o'  that  fifty  I 
gave  you  last  night.  I've  given  all  my  small 
change  away." 

He  looked  up  and  met  Mr.  Wright's  eye;  the 


THE   OLD   MAN   OF   THE   SEA    251 

latter,  too  affected  to  speak,  took  out  the  money 
and  passed  it  over. 

"We  never  know  what  may  happen  to  us," 
said  the  old  man,  solemnly,  as  he  rose  and 
buttoned  his  coat.  "  I'm  an  old  man  and  I  like 
to  have  things  ship-shape.  I've  spent  nearly  the 
whole  day  with  my  lawyer,  and  if  anything 
'appens  to  my  old  carcass  it  won't  make  any 
difference.  I  have  left  half  my  money  to  George; 
half  of  all  I  have  is  to  be  his." 

In  the  midst  of  an  awed  silence  he  went  round 
and  shook  hands. 

"  The  other  half,"  he  said,  slowly,  as  he  paused 
with  his  hand  on  the  door — "  the  other  half  and 
my  best  gold  watch  and  chain  I  have  left  to 
my  dear  young  pal,  Charlie  Hills.  Good-bye, 
Georgie !  " 


XII 
"MANNERS    MAKYTH    MAN" 

The  night-watchman  appeared  to  be  out  of 
sorts.  His  movements  were  even  slower  than 
usual,  and,  when  he  sat,  the  soap-box  seemed  to 
be  unable  to  give  satisfaction.  His  face  bore  an 
expression  of  deep  melancholy,  but  a  smouldering 
gleam  in  his  eye  betokened  feelings  deeply 
moved. 

"  Play-acting  I  don't  hold  with,"  he  burst  out, 
with  sudden  ferocity.  "  Never  did.  I  don't  say 
I  ain't  been  to  a  theayter  once  or  twice  in  my  life, 
but  I  always  come  away  with  the  idea  that  any- 
body could  act  if  they  liked  to  try.  It's  a  kid's 
game,  a  silly  kid's  game,  dressing  up  and  pretend- 
ing to  be  somebody  else." 

He  cut  off  a  piece  of  tobacco  and,  stowing  it  in 
his  left  cheek,  sat  chewing,  with  his  lack-lustre 
eyes  fixed  on  the  wharves  across  the  river.  The 
offensive  antics  of  a  lighterman  in  mid-stream, 

252 


'MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       253 

who  nearly  fell  overboard  in  his  efforts  to  attract 
his  attention,  he  ignored. 

"  I  might  ha'  known  it,  too,"  he  said,  after  a 
long  silence.  "  If  I'd  only  stopped  to  think,  in- 
stead o'  being  in  such  a  hurry  to  do  good  to 
others,  I  should  ha'  been  all  right,  and  the  pack 
o'  monkey-faced  swabs  on  the  Lizzie  and  Annie 
wot  calls  themselves  sailormen  would  'ave  had 
to  'ave  got  something  else  to  laugh  about. 
They've  told  it  in  every  pub  for  'arf  a  mile  round, 
and  last  night,  when  I  went  into  the  '  Town  of 
Margate  '  to  get  a  drink,  three  chaps  climbed  over 
the  partition  to  'ave  a  look  at  me. 

"  It  all  began  with  young  Ted  Sawyer,  the  mate 
o'  the  Lizzie  and  Annie.  He  calls  himself  a  mate, 
but  if  it  wasn't  for  'aving  the  skipper  for  a  brother- 
in-law  'e'd  be  called  something  else,  very  quick. 
Two  or  three  times  we've  'ad  words  over  one 
thing  and  another,  and  the  last  time  I  called  'im 
something  that  I  can  see  now  was  a  mistake. 
It  was  one  o'  these  'ere  clever  things  that  a 
man  don't  forget,  let  alone  a  lop-sided  monkey 
like  'im." 

"  That  was  when  they  was  up  time  afore  last. 


254  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

and  when  they  made  fast  'ere  last  week  I  could 
see  as  he  'adn't  forgotten  it.  For  one  thing  he 
pretended  not  to  see  me,  and,  arter  I  'ad  told  him 
wot  I'd  do  to  him  if  'e  ran  into  me  agin,  he  said 
'e  thought  I  was  a  sack  o'  potatoes  taking  a  airing 
on  a  pair  of  legs  wot  somebody  'ad  throwed  away. 
Nasty  tongue  'e's  got;  not  clever,  but  nasty. 

"  Arter  that  I  took  no  notice  of  'im,  and,  o'  course, 
that  annoyed  'im  more  than  anything.  All  I 
could  do  I  done,  and  'e  was  ringing  the  gate-bell 
that  night  from  five  minutes  to  twelve  till  ha'-past 
afore  I  heard  it.  Many  a  night-watchman  gets  a 
name  for  going  to  sleep  when  'e's  only  getting  a 
bit  of  'is  own  back. 

"We  stood  there  talking  for  over  *arf-an-hour 
arter  I  'ad  let  'im  in.  Leastways,  he  did.  And 
whenever  I  see  as  he  was  getting  tired  I  just  said, 
'  Wsh  !  '  and  'e'd  start  agin  as  fresh  as  ever.  He 
tumbled  to  it  at  last,  and  went  aboard  shaking  'is 
little  fist  at  me  and  telling  me  wot  he'd  do  to  me 
if  it  wasn't  for  the  lor. 

"  I  kept  by  the  gate  as  soon  as  I  came  on  dooty 
next  evening,  just  to  give  'im  a  little  smile  as  'e 
went  out.      There  is   nothing   more   aggravating 


'MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       255 

than  a  smile  when  it  is  properly  done;  but  there 
was  no  signs  o'  my  lord,  and,  arter  practising  it 
on  a  carman  by  mistake,  I  'ad  to  go  inside  for  a 
bit  and  wait  till  he  'ad  gorn. 

"  The  coast  was  clear  by  the  time  I  went  back, 
and  I  'ad  just  stepped  outside  with  my  back  up 
agin  the  gate-post  to  'ave  a  pipe,  when  I  see  a 
boy  coming  along  with  a  bag.  Good-looking  lad 
of  about  fifteen  'e  was,  nicely  dressed  in  a  serge 
suit,  and  he  no  sooner  gets  up  to  me  than  'e  puts 
down  the  bag  and  looks  up  at  me  with  a  timid 
sort  o'  little  smile. 

Good  evening,  cap'n,'  he  ses. 

*'  He  wasn't  the  fust  that  has  made  that  mis- 
take; older  people  than  'im  have  done  it. 
Good  evening,  my  lad,'  I  ses. 

" '  I  s'pose,'  he  ses,  in  a  trembling  voice,  '  I 
suppose  you  ain't  looking  out  for  a  cabin-boy, 
sir?' 

"  '  Cabin-boy  ? '  I  ses.     '  No,  I  ain't.' 

I've  run  away  from  'ome  to  go  to  sea,'  he 
ses,  '  and  I'm  afraid  of  being  pursued.  Can  I 
come  inside  ? ' 

"  Afore  I  could  say  '  No '  he  'ad  come,  bag  and 


256  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

all;  and  afore  I  could  say  anything  else  he  'ad 
nipped  into  the  office  and  stood  there  with  his  'and 
on  his  chest,  panting. 

" '  I  know  I  can  trust  you,'  he  ses ;  '  I  can  see 
it  by  your  face.' 

" '  Wot  'ave  you  run  away  from  'ome  for  ? '  I 
ses.     '  Have  they  been  ill-treating  of  you?  ' 

*' '  Ill-treating  me.'* '  he  ses,  with  a  laugh.  '  Not 
much.  Why,  I  expect  my  father  is  running  about 
all  over  the  place  offering  rewards  for  me.  He 
wouldn't  lose  me  for  a  thousand  pounds.' 

"  I  pricked  up  my  ears  at  that;  I  don't  deny  it. 
Anybody  would.  Besides,  I  knew  it  would  be 
doing  him  a  kindness  to  hand  'im  back  to  'is  father. 
And  then  I  did  a  bit  o'  thinking  to  see  'ow  it  was 
to  be  done. 

"  '  Sit  down,'  I  ses,  putting  three  or  four  ledgers 
on  the  floor  behind  one  of  the  desks.  '  Sit  down, 
and  let's  talk  it  over.' 

"We  talked  away  for  ever  so  long,  but,  do  all 
I  would,  I  couldn't  persuade  'im.  His  'ead  was 
stuffed  full  of  coral  islands  and  smugglers  and 
pirates  and  foreign  ports.  He  said  'e  wanted  to 
see  the  world,  and  flying-fish. 


*  MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       257 

"'I  love  the  blue  billers,'  he  ses;  'the  heaving 
blue  billers  is  wot  I  want.' 

"  I  tried  to  explain  to  'im  who  would  be  doing 
the  heaving,  but  'e  wouldn't  listen  to  me.  He  sat 
on  them  ledgers  like  a  little  wooden  image,  look- 
ing up  at  me  and  shaking  his  'ead,  and  when  I  told 
'im  of  storms  and  shipwrecks  he  just  smacked  'is 
lips  and  his  blue  eyes  shone  with  joy.  Arter  a 
time  I  saw  it  was  no  good  trying  to  persuade  'im, 
and  I  pretended  to  give  way. 

" '  I  think  I  can  get  you  a  ship  with  a  friend  o' 
mine,'  I  ses;  'but,  mind,  I've  got  to  relieve  your 
pore  father's  mind — I  must  let  'im  know  wot's 
become  of  you.' 

" '  Not  before  I've  sailed,'  he  ses,  very  quick. 

" '  Certingly  not,'  I  ses.  '  But  you  must  give 
me  'is  name  and  address,  and,  arter  the  Blue  Shark 
— that's  the  name  of  your  ship — is  clear  of  the 
land,  I'll  send  'im  a  letter  with  no  name  to  it, 
saying  where  you  'ave  gorn.' 

"  He  didn't  seem  to  like  it  at  fust,  and  said  'e 
would  write  'imself,  but  arter  I  'ad  pointed  out 
that  'e  might  forget  and  that  I  was  responsible, 
'e  gave  way  and  told  me  that  'is  father  was  named 


258  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

Mr.  Watson,  and  he  kept  a  big  draper's  shop  in 
the  Commercial  Road. 

"We  talked  a  bit  arter  that,  just  to  stop  'is 
suspicions,  and  then  I  told  'im  to  stay  where  'e 
was  on  the  floor,  out  of  sight  of  the  window,  while 
I  went  to  see  my  friend  the  captin. 

"  I  stood  outside  for  a  moment  trying  to  make 
up  my  mind  wot  to  do.  O'  course,  I  'ad  no  busi- 
ness, strictly  speaking,  to  leave  the  wharf,  but,  on 
the  other  'and,  there  was  a  father's  'art  to  relieve. 
I  edged  along  bit  by  bit  while  I  was  thinking,  and 
then,  arter  looking  back  once  or  tw^ce  to  make 
sure  that  the  boy  wasn't  watching  me,  I  set  off  for 
the  Commercial  Road  as  hard  as  I  could  go. 

"  I'm  not  so  young  as  I  was.  It  was  a  warm 
evening,  and  I  'adn't  got  even  a  bus  fare  on  me. 
I  'ad  to  walk  all  the  way,  and,  by  the  time  I  got 
there,  I  was  'arf  melted.  It  was  a  tidy-sized  shop, 
with  three  or  four  nice-looking  gals  behind  the 
counter,  and  things  like  babies'  high  chairs  for 
the  customers  to  sit  on — long  in  the  leg  and 
ridikerlously  small  in  the  seat.  I  went  up  to 
one  of  the  gals  and  told  '?r  I  wanted  to  see  Mr. 
Watson. 


*  MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       259 

" '  On  private  business,'  I  ses.  '  Very  im- 
portant.' 

"  She  looked  at  me  for  a  moment,  and  then  she 
went  away  and  fetched  a  tall,  bald-headed  man 
with  grey  side-whiskers  and  a  large  nose. 

Wot  d'you  want? '  he  ses,  coming  up  to  me. 

" '  I  want  a  word  with  you  in  private,'  I  ses. 
This  is  private  enough  for  me,'  he  ses.     '  Say 
wot  you  'ave  to  say,  and  be  quick  about  it.' 

"  I  drawed  myself  up  a  bit  and  looked  at  him. 
'  P'r'aps  you  ain't  missed  'im  yet,'  I  ses. 

"  '  Missed  'im.? '  he  ses,  with  a  growl.  '  Missed 
who  ? ' 

Your — son.      Your    blue-eyed    son,'    I    ses, 
looking  'im  straight  in  the  eye. 

"  '  Look  here  !  '  he  ses,  spluttering.  '  You  be 
off.  'Ow  dare  you  come  here  with  your  games? 
Wot  d'ye  mean  by  it? ' 

" '  I  mean,'  I  ses,  getting  a  bit  out  o'  temper, 
'  that  your  boy  has  run  away  to  go  to  sea,  and  I've 
come  to  take  you  to  'im.' 

"  He  seemed  so  upset  that  I  thought  'e  was 

going  to  'ave  a  fit  at  fust,  and  it  seemed  only 

natural,  too.     Then  I  see  that  the  best-looking 
s  z 


260  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

girl  and  another  was  'aving  a  fit,  although  trying 
'ard  not  to. 

" '  If  you  don't  get  out  o'  my  shop,'  he  ses  at 
last,  '  I'll  'ave  you  locked  up.' 

"  '  Very  good  ! '  I  ses,  in  a  quiet  way.  '  Very 
good ;  but,  mark  my  words,  if  he's  drownded  you'll 
never  forgive  yourself  as  long  as  you  live  for 
letting  your  temper  get  the  better  of  you — you'll 
never  know  a  good  night's  rest  agin.  Besides, 
wot  about  'is  mother?' 

"One  o'  them  silly  gals  went  off  agin  just  like 
a  damp  firework,  and  Mr.  Watson,  arter  nearly 
choking  'imself  with  temper,  shoved  me  out  o'  the 
way  and  marched  out  o'  the  shop.  I  didn't  know 
wot  to  make  of  'im  at  fust,  and  then  one  o'  the 
gals  told  me  that  'e  was  a  bachelor  and  'adn't  got 
no  son,  and  that  somebody  'ad  been  taking  advan- 
tage of  what  she  called  my  innercence  to  pull  my 

leg. 

" '  You  toddle  off  'ome,'  she  ses,  '  before  Mr. 

Watson  comes  back.' 

" '  It's  a  shame  to  let  'im  come  out  alone,'  ses 
one  o'  the  other  gals.  'Where  do  you  live, 
gran 'pa  .-^ ' 


*  MANNERS    MAKYTH    MAN'       261 

"  I  see  then  that  I  'ad  been  done,  and  I  was  just 
walking  out  o'  the  shop,  pretending  to  be  deaf, 
when  Mr.  Watson  come  back  with  a  silly  young 
policeman  wot  asked  me  wot  I  meant  by  it.  He 
told  me  to  get  off  'ome  quick,  and  actooally  put 


"ARTER  TRYING  HIS  'ARDEST,  HE  COULD  ONLY  ROCK  ME  A  BIT" 

his  'and  on  my  shoulder,  but  it  'ud  take  more  than 
a  thing  like  that  to  push  me,  and,  arter  trying  his 
'ardest,  he  could  only  rock  me  a  bit. 

"  I  went  at  last  because  I  wanted  to  see  that  boy 
agin,  and  the  young  policeman  follered  me  quite 


262  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

a  long  way,  shaking  his  silly  'ead  at  me  and  telling 
me  to  be  careful. 

"  I  got  a  ride  part  o'  the  way  from  Commercial 
Road  to  Aldgate  by  getting  on  the  wrong  bus,  but 
it  wasn't  much  good,  and  I  was  quite  tired  by  the 
time  I  got  back  to  the  wharf.  I  waited  outside 
for  a  minute  or  two  to  get  my  wind  back  agin, 
and  then  I  went  in — boiling. 

"  You  might  ha'  knocked  me  down  with  a 
feather,  as  the  saying  is,  and  I  just  stood  inside 
the  office  speechless.  The  boy  'ad  disappeared, 
and  sitting  on  the  floor  where  I  'ad  left  'im  was 
a  very  nice-looking  gal  of  about  eighteen,  with 
short  'air  and  a  white  blouse. 

"'Good  evening,  sir,'  she  ses,  jumping  up  and 
giving  me  a  pretty  little  frightened  look.  '  I'm 
so  sorry  that  my  brother  has  been  deceiving  you. 
He's  a  bad,  wicked,  ungrateful  boy.  The  idea  of 
telling  you  that  Mr.  Watson  was  'is  father  !  Have 
you  been  there  ?     I  do  'ope  you're  not  tired.' 

'"Where  is  he?'  I  ses. 

" '  He's  gorn,'  she  ses,  shaking  her  'ead.  '  I 
begged  and  prayed  of  'im  to  stop,  but  'e  wouldn't. 
He  said  'e  thought  you  might  be  offended  with 


'MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       263 

'im.     "  Give  my  love  to  old  Roley-Poley,  and  tell 
him  I  don't  trust  'im,"  he  ses.' 

"  She  stood  there  looking  so  scared  that  I  didn't 
know  wot  to  say.  By  and  by  she  took  out  'er  little 
pocket-'ankercher  and  began  to  cry. 

Oh,  get  'im  back,'  she  ses.  '  Don't  let  it 
be  said  I  follered  'im  'ere  all  the  way  for  nothing. 
Have  another  try.     For  my  sake  ! ' 

'Ow  can  I  get  'im  back  when  I  don't  know 
where  he's  gorn  ? '  I  ses. 

He — he's  gorn  to  'is  godfather,'  she  ses, 
dabbing  her  eyes.  '  I  promised  'im  not  to  tell 
anybody;  but  I  don't  know  wot  to  do  for  the 
best.' 

'" '  Well,  p'r'aps  his  godfather  will  'old  on  to 
'im,'  I  ses. 

He  won't  tell  'im  anything  about  going  to 
sea,'  she  ses,  shaking  'er  little  head.  'He's  just 
gorn  to  try  and  bo-bo-borrow  some  money  to  go 
away  with.' 

"  She  bust  out  sobbing,  and  it  was  all  I  could  do 
to  get  the  godfather's  address  out  of  'er.  When 
I  think  of  the  trouble  I  took  to  get  it  I  come  over 
quite  faint.    At  last  she  told  me,  between  'er  sobs, 


264  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

that  'is  name  was  Mr.  Kiddem,  and  that  he  lived 
at  27,  Bridge  Street. 

" '  He's  one  o'  the  kindest-'arted  and  most 
generous  men  that  ever  lived,'  she  ses;  'that's 
why  my  brother  Harry  'as  gone  to  'im.  And  you 
needn't  mind  taking  anything  'e  likes  to  give  you; 
he's  rolling  in  money.' 

"  I  took  it  a  bit  easier  going  to  Bridge  Street,  but 
the  evening  seemed  'otter  than  ever,  and  by  the 
time  I  got  to  the  'ouse  I  was  pretty  near  done  up. 
A  nice,  tidy-looking  woman  opened  the  door,  but 
she  was  a'most  stone  deaf,  and  I  'ad  to  shout  the 
name  pretty  near  a  dozen  times  afore  she  'eard  it. 

"  '  He  don't  live  'ere,'  she  ses. 

"  '  'As  he  moved  ? '  I  ses.    '  Or  wot  ? ' 

"  She  shook  her  'ead,  and,  arter  telling  me  to 
wait,  went  in  and  fetched  her  'usband. 

"  '  Never  'eard  of  him,'  he  ses,  '  and  we've  been 

'ere  seventeen  years.    Are  you  sure  it  was  twenty- 

?' 

Sartain,'  I  ses. 

Well,  he  don't  live  'ere,'  he  ses.     'Why  not 
try  thirty-seven  and  forty-seven?' 

"  I  tried  'em  :  thirty-seven  was  empty,  and  a 


seven 

a  I 
(t  ( 


*  MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       265 

pasty-faced  chap  at  forty-seven  nearly  made  'im- 
self  ill  over  the  name  of  '  Kiddem.'  It  'adn't 
struck  me  before,  but  it's  a  hard  matter  to  deceive 
me,  and  all  in  a  flash  it  come  over  me  that  I  'ad 
been  done  agin,  and  that  the  gal  was  as  bad  as  'er 
brother. 

"  I  was  so  done  up  I  could  'ardly  crawl  back, 
and  my  'ead  was  all  in  a  maze.  Three  or  four 
times  I  stopped  and  tried  to  think,  but  couldn't, 
but  at  last  I  got  back  and  dragged  myself  into  the 
ofiSce. 

"  As  I  'arf  expected,  it  was  empty.  There  was 
no  sign  of  either  the  gal  or  the  boy;  and  I  dropped 
into  a  chair  and  tried  to  think  wot  it  all  meant. 
Then,  'appening  to  look  out  of  the  winder,  I  see 
somebody  running  up  and  down  the  jetty. 

"  I  couldn't  see  plain  owing  to  the  things  in  the 
way,  but  as  soon  as  I  got  outside  and  saw  who  it 
was  I  nearly  dropped.  It  was  the  boy,  and  he 
was  running  up  and  down  wringing  his  'ands  and 
crying  like  a  wild  thing,  and,  instead  o'  running 
away  as  soon  as  'e  saw  me,  he  rushed  right  up  to 
me  and  threw  'is  grubby  little  paws  round  my 
neck. 


266  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

"  '  Save  her  !  '  'e  ses.  '  Save  'er  !  Help! 
Help! ' 

" '  Look  'ere,'  I  ses,  shoving  'im  off. 

She  fell  overboard,'  he  ses,  dancing  about, 
'  Oh,  my  pore  sister  !  Quick  !  Quick  !  I  can't 
swim !  ' 

"  He  ran  to  the  side  and  pointed  at  the  water, 
which  was  just  about  at  'arf-tide.  Then  'e  caught 
'old  of  me  agin. 

" '  Make  'aste,'  he  ses,  giving  me  a  shove  be- 
hind.   '  Jump  in.    Wot  are  you  waiting  for.'^ ' 

"  I  stood  there  for  a  moment  'arf  dazed,  looking 
down  at  the  water.  Then  I  pulled  down  a  life- 
belt from  the  wall  'ere  and  threw  it  in,  and,  arter 
another  moment's  thought,  ran  back  to  the  Lizzie 
and  Annie,  wot  was  in  the  inside  berth,  and  gave 
them  a  hail.  I've  always  'ad  a  good  voice,  and  in 
a  flash  the  skipper  and  Ted  Sawyer  came  tum- 
bling up  out  of  the  cabin  and  the  'ands  out  of  the 
fo'c'sle. 

"  '  Gal  overboard  !  '  I  ses,  shouting. 

"The  skipper  just  asked  where,  and  then  'im 
and  the  mate  and  a  couple  of  'ands  tumbled  into 
their  boat  and  pulled  under  the  jetty  for  all  they 


GAL  OVERBOARD  !  '    I    SES,  SHOUTING 


268  SHIP'S    COMPANY 

was  worth.  Me  and  the  boy  ran  back  and  stood 
with  the  others,  watching. 

"  '  Point  out  the  exact  spot,'  ses  the  skipper. 

"  The  boy  pointed,  and  the  skipper  stood  up  in 
the  boat  and  felt  round  with  a  boat-hook.  Twice 
'e  said  he  thought  'e  touched  something,  but  it 
turned  out  as  'e  was  mistaken.  His  face  got 
longer  and  longer  and  'e  shook  his  'ead,  and  said 
he  was  afraid  it  was  no  good. 

" '  Don't  stand  cryin'  'ere,'  he  ses  to  the  boy, 
kindly.  "  Jem,  run  round  for  the  Thames  police, 
and  get  them  and  the  drags.  Take  the  boy  with 
you.     It'll  occupy 'is.  mind.' 

"  He  'ad  another  go  with  the  boat-hook  arter 
they  'ad  gone;  then  'e  gave  it  up,  and  sat  in  the 
boat  waiting. 

" '  This'll  be  a  bad  job  for  you,  watchman,'  he 
ses,  shaking  his  'ead.  '  Where  was  you  when  it 
'appened?  ' 

" '  He's  been  missing  all  the  evening,'  ses  the 
cook,  wot  was  standing  beside  me.  '  If  he'd  been 
doing  'is  dooty,  the  pore  gal  wouldn't  'ave  been 
drownded.     Wot  was  she  doing  on  the  wharf?  " 

" '  Skylarkin',  I  s'pose,'  ses  the  mate.     '  It's  a 


*  MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       269 

wonder  there  ain't  more  drownded.  Wot  can  you 
expect  when  the  watchman  is  sitting  in  a  pub  all 
the  evening? ' 

"  The  cook  said  I  ought  to  be  'ung,  and  a  young 
ordinary  seaman  wot  was  standing  beside  'im  said 
he  would  sooner  I  was  boiled.  I  believe  they  'ad 
words  about  it,  but  I  was  feeling  too  upset  to  take 
much  notice. 

" '  Looking  miserable  won't  bring  'er  back  to 
life  agin,'  ses  the  skipper,  looking  up  at  me  and 
shaking  his  'ead.  '  You'd  better  go  down  to  my 
cabin  and  get  yourself  a  drop  o'  whisky;  there's 
a  bottle  on  the  table.  You'll  want  all  your  wits 
about  you  when  the  police  come.  And  wotever 
you  do  don't  say  nothing  to  criminate  yourself.' 

"'We'll  do  the  criminating  for  'im  all  right,' 
ses  the  cook. 

'"If  I  was  the  pore  gal  I'd  haunt  'im,'  ses  the 
ordinary  seaman ;  '  every  night  of  'is  life  I'd  stand 
afore  'im  dripping  with  water  and  moaning.' 

"  •  PVaps  she  will,'  ses  the  cook;  '  let's  'ope  so, 
at  any  rate.' 

"I  didn't  answer  'em;  I  was  too  dead-beat. 
Besides  which,   I've  got  a  'orror  of  ghosts,  and 


270  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

the  idea  of  being  on  the  wharf  alone  of  a  night 
arter  such  a  thing  was  a'most  too  much  for  me. 
I  went  on  board  the  Lizzie  and  Annie,  and  down 
in  the  cabin  I  found  a  bottle  o'  whisky,  as  the 
skipper  'ad  said.  I  sat  down  on  the  locker  and 
'ad  a  glass,  and  then  I  sat  worrying  and  wondering 
wot  was  to  be  the  end  of  it  all. 

"  The  whisky  warmed  me  up  a  bit,  and  I  'ad 
just  taken  up  the  bottle  to  'elp  myself  agin  when 
I  'eard  a  faint  sort  o'  sound  in  the  skipper's  state- 
room. I  put  the  bottle  down  and  listened,  but 
everything  seemed  deathly  still.  I  took  it  up 
agin,  and  'ad  just  poured  out  a  drop  o'  whisky 
when  I  distinctly  'eard  a  hissing  noise  and  then 
a  little  moan. 

"  For  a  moment  I  sat  turned  to  stone.  Then  I 
put  the  bottle  down  quiet,  and  'ad  just  got  up  to 
go  when  the  door  of  the  state-room  opened,  and 
I  saw  the  drownded  gal,  with  'er  little  face  and 
hair  all  wet  and  dripping,  standing  before  me. 

"  Ted  Sawyer  'as  been  telling  everybody  that 
I  came  up  the  companion-way  like  a  fog-horn  that 
'ad  lost  its  ma;  I  wonder  how  he'd  'ave  come  up 
if  he'd  '^d  th?  evening  I  had  'ad  ? 


'MANNERS   MAKYTH   MAN'       271 

"  They  were  all  on  the  jetty  as  I  got  there  and 
tumbled  into  the  skipper's  arms,  and  all  asking  at 
once  wot  was  the  matter.  When  I  got  my  breath 
back  a  bit  and  told  'em,  they  laughed.  All  except 
the  cook,  and  'e  said  it  was  only  wot  I  might 
expect.  Then,  like  a  man  in  a  dream,  I  see  the 
gal  come  out  of  the  companion  and  walk  slowly 
to  the  side. 

"  '  Look  !  '  I  ses.     '  Look  !     There  she  is  ! ' 

"  '  You're  dreaming,'  ses  the  skipper ;  '  there's 
nothing  there.' 

"  They  all  said  the  same,  even  when  the  gal 
stepped  on  to  the  side  and  climbed  on  to  the 
wharf.  She  came  along  towards  me  with  'er  arms 
held  close  to  'er  sides,  and  making  the  most 
'orrible  faces  at  me,  and  it  took  five  of  'em  all  their 
time  to  'old  me.  The  wharf  and  everything 
seemed  to  me  to  spin  round  and  round.  Then  she 
came  straight  up  to  me  and  patted  me  on  the 
cheek. 

"  '  Pore  old  gentleman,'  she  ses.  '  Wot  a  shame 
it  is,  Ted !     It's  too  bad.' 

"  They  let  go  o'  me  then,  and  stamped  up  and 
down  the  jetty  laughing  fit  to  kill  themselves.     If 


272  SHIP'S   COMPANY 

they  'ad  only  known  wot  a  exhibition  they  was 
making  ot  themselves,  and  'ow  I  pitied  them,  they 
wouldn't  ha'  done  it.  And  by  and  by  Ted  wiped 
his  eyes  and  put  his  arm  round  the  gal's  waist  and 
ses — 

"  '  This  is  my  intended,  Miss  Florrie  Price,'  he 
ses.  'Ain't  she  a  little  wonder?  Wot  d'ye  think 
of'er?' 

"  *  I'll  keep  my  own  opinion,'  I  ses.  '  I  ain't 
got  nothing  to  say  against  gals,  but  if  I  only  lay 
my  hands  on  that  young  brother  of  'ers ' 

"  They  went  off  agin  then,  worse  than  ever ;  and 
at  last  the  cook  came  and  put  'is  skinny  arm  round 
my  neck  and  started  spluttering  in  my  ear.  I 
shoved  'im  off  hard,  because  I  see  it  all  then ;  and 
I  should  ha'  seen  it  afore  only  I  didn't  'ave  time 
to  think.  I  don't  bear  no  malice,  and  all  I  can 
say  is  that  I  don't  wish  'er  any  harder  punishment 
than  to  be  married  to  Ted  Sawyer. 


V 


THE   END 


Richard  Clay  &r'  Sons,  Ltd.,  London  and  Butigay, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
Los  Angeles 

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